Until Dusk
by rosyrue
Summary: Six years have passed since the traumatic incident up at the cabin, but one was lucky not to attend the getaway that year. Jennifer Boothe, an aspiring journalist, that went to high school with the victims, has a chance to reunite with the others when the town newspaper asks for an article on what happened up on the mountain. (Mike/OC). [Rating may change to 'M'].
1. Pilot

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Until Dawn, nor do I own any of the original, canon characters. However, I do own _some_ of the characters' last names, since they weren't addressed in the game.

 **A/N:** If you read this chapter when it first was published, I'm very sorry, lol. I wrote this without any idea in mind, so, to me, it turned out odd. I'm now going back and fixing a few things, such as the grade everyone was in and few other things.

* * *

 **Until Dusk**

Chapter 1: "Pilot"

* * *

I'll never forget the day, six years ago, that my friends, Hannah and Beth Washington, died.

It was as if it happened yesterday.

I remember what it was like coming back to school after break. Every year before, people talked about their vacations; where they went or what they got for Christmas, but not that year. Everyone came back in a daze, even the people who didn't really know Beth or Hannah. I guess it was just the idea that two people, that happened to go to our school; who lived in our city, died. While many searched for Washington sisters, they were never found. Our school came together for a vigil by candlelight in honor of the sisters, but that only did more harm than good. The Washington family refused to believe that they were gone forever, despite there not even being a trace of evidence left at the cabin.

No one knew what happened until two months later, but still, what _exactly_ happened to them remained vague. During that time, Hannah's and Beth's disappearance concluded in their deaths. We all thought they were kidnapped, but when some of Josh Washington's friends were pulled from class, things became more complex. Plus, _how_ could they have been kidnapped? There were so many people at the cabin. Wouldn't they have realized?

The police and private investigators were at our school almost everyday. I remember seeing Chris Neeson and Matt Banks being interviewed when walking back to class from the bathroom. I remember hearing,

 _"Did Hannah or Beth ever do anything to make either of you angry?"_

Both Chris and Matt swore they would never hurt either of them - I could even hear Chris exclaim, _"Do you really think we would do that?"_ when turning the corner; his voice echoed down the empty halls while everyone else was in class. Matt, on the other hand, could barely keep eye contact. For a jock, the guy was pretty timid off of the field.

Was that it? Foul play?

I never really knew the group _that_ well, but I've conversed with them all on multiple occasions - I was only really familiar with Josh and Chris, but from what I saw, Chris would never harm anyone. I remember Chris telling Josh how he probably failed Anatomy class because he didn't have it in him to cut open a frog. In the end, Sam Parker had to end up doing it for him. Chris wouldn't hurt a fly, but I guess you never really know a person, right?

Finally, the truth came out thanks to Sam and Ashley Clark. For some reason, that makes perfect sense now, Mike Munroe and Emily DeGuzmen refused to talk about the incident without a lawyer present.

They had played an awful prank on Hannah, but the outcome wasn't what they imagined.

Hannah had a huge crush on Mike - this I knew. Hannah used to scribble 'Mike' and 'Hannah Munroe' all over the inside of her school planner. Hannah also talked to me about him all the time. After Emily, who was Mike's girlfriend at the time, found out Hannah liked Mike, she thought it would be a great idea to prank her. Emily forged a note in order to get Mike and Hannah alone. Everyone else hid and waited.

They humiliated her.

Hannah ran out into the woods and Beth followed.

They were never heard from again...or so they say.

The police searched the cabin and the woods thoroughly, but never discovered the bodies of the sisters.

I had two classes with Hannah and one with Beth, but when I came back their seats were empty. It was hard to get through that, considering that Hannah sat next to me in English. The rest of the year was so quiet.

Hannah and Beth Washington never got to finish their senior year.

I still remember my conversations with both of them.

Unlike Hannah, her twin sister, Beth, was more of an extrovert. While Hannah liked to keep to herself, Beth had no problem making friends. Beth also didn't care for school as much as Hannah, which is how we met. I had fifth period with Beth, which meant I had class with her right after lunch. Thanks to me, Beth wasn't penalized for being late. As I was walking to the cafeteria one day, Beth tapped on my shoulder. She asked me if I could cover for her, since she was leaving campus to get some 'real' food; a burger with some fries from the gas station down the street, and she didn't know if she'd be back in time. I obliged, so she left. Sure enough, she was late, but I did my job. Our teacher asked where she was, so I told him that she was at the nurse's office; grabbing a certain 'utensil', since it was her time of the month. It shut him up real fast, which was what I was going for. No man likes to ask questions when it came to that sort of thing. Ever since then, we talked more in class and that's when I found out that Hannah was Beth's sister.

I ended up talking to Hannah a bit more, due to our two classes together, and also because her calm nature was easy to listen to.

I can't believe that I had actually convinced Hannah to get a tattoo. That was actually how Hannah and I became friends. Hannah didn't talk much, but I always found her staring at my tattoo - a crescent moon that was tucked behind my left ear. She told me that she had always wanted to get a tattoo, but she was afraid that her parents would get mad, which led into her asking what my parents thought of mine. Well, neither of my parents knew. At that time, I wasn't even of age to legally get a tattoo. Let's just say I never wore ponytails at home and I was super careful when placing strands of hair behind my ear.

Hannah would always ask if it hurt and I always told her the truth: yes, a lot. Nonchalantly, I would remind her of my tattoo placement: directly on my skull; straight bone, but a fleshy, meaty area wouldn't hurt as bad.

She was so happy to show me her butterfly tattoo on her upper arm. Hannah took my advise, obviously - a meaty area. She told me that it hurt, but that it was worth it. Her half-brother, Josh, even helped their parents hop on board when it came to her tattoo.

* * *

Josh.

Now, a year after his sisters' disappearances, Josh is gone, too.

Mentally, Josh wasn't all there after the death of his sisters, and even for some time before, but now, he's actually gone. He was put on multiple medications after the incident, but he didn't stay on them. I remember overhearing an argument with his step-mother about it. Chris and I came over for dinner and eventually made our way into the entertainment room to play Call of Duty. Josh's mom was livid. Apparently, Josh claimed that the medications made him angry and that he didn't like it. There were a lot of things Josh and his step-mom didn't agree on.

Eventually, after the death of her twin daughters and her step-son's bipolar tantrums, Josh's step-mom gave up and turned to Josh's father. Josh thought his father would stick up for him, since it was just them for a long time, but unfortunately, that wasn't the case anymore. Josh's father kicked Josh out, leaving him to live on his own - which he did. He used to tell us all the time how much he enjoyed living on his own, especially in the scenic city of Seattle. It was surprising that Josh's dad didn't even offer to help him, even in the slightest. You'd think, with all that money, you'd help your son out. Nope.

One day, a year after the first incident that happened, I was invited to the cabin up at Blackwood Pines.

I couldn't go, due to an internship I was taking in the journalism field, but a large part of me didn't feel right going to that cabin anyway.

By that time, I associated with the group more. Hannah's and Beth's friendship introduced me Josh, which in turn, had me hanging out with Josh's friends more.

I would ask myself why Josh thought it was a good idea to go back to the cabin, but I already know. He wanted closure; he wanted to replace the bad memories with good, even though that wasn't possible. Nothing could take that pain away, I'm sure.

This may sound horrible, but I'm glad I didn't go.

I remember seeing Josh's face on his video broadcast/invite. I could tell something was wrong, but maybe it was just the _new_ Josh, the Josh that lost two members of his family, and that would be something that lingered forever. Why wouldn't it? Josh exclaimed, _"_ _Let_ _'_ _s party like we_ _'_ _re porn stars!_ _"_ Which was something he always said. I remember the one time he yelled that at his house, but was unaware that his step-mom was doing laundry across the hallway. Needless to say, she waltzed in and smacked him upside the head, which was a good laugh.

Everyone went from before, except the Washington sisters.

* * *

Everyone was shocked to find out that Josh went missing after the following, winter break. The Washington family was in absolute distress - all of their kids...gone..and Josh's parents blamed themselves for it. They ended up renting out their house a few months later and moved a few states away. At first, they contemplated selling their house, but they didn't want to sell the memories of their children when they lived there.

Matt Banks went missing as well, which concerned many people, but kept hope alive in the Washington family. They believed that Matt was with Josh, helping him. Just like with Hannah and Beth, they couldn't come to terms with Josh's death/disappearance.

This time, whatever happened up on the mountain wasn't released to the public until two years later, but it brought on a lot of controversy. There wasn't a threat of extra community service, expulsion, or time in juvenile hall; it was serious. They weren't in high school anymore, after all. They were evaluated, kept in hold, and even served jail time. Jessica Hall, however, was pronounced 'mentally insane' and was sent to a luxurious ward in California. While the police promised homicide was involved; putting their foot down when everyone told the cops that Josh had set up a vindictive prank, despite that not being what threatened to kill them. After getting a warrant, the police searched Josh's apartment and found a full bottle of his prescription medication and closed the case. However, the victims told another story...

A story of a monster; the Wendigo; an old, Indian folklore.

No one believed them, which was why their stories didn't reach the public, though some of it was released for viewing pleasure. The police dismissed the thought of them being attacked by a monster, but they did listen to Sam when she told them to go down in the mines. The only reason they did was because they thought foul played had occurred down there; they thought the group of kids were killing each other off, hence the stupid article that was released a few months after they got back: "The College Cult".

At first, I didn't believe it either, but then I started to ask myself: why would they lie? This wasn't something a sane person could make up. I did some research on the Wendigo and, apparently, it's a spirit that rises due to cannibalism. After that, I wished to know more, but I couldn't get my hands on any documents then, obviously.

Now, as an interning journalist for The Seattle Times, I do have access to things I couldn't before when I was younger. Although I couldn't read everything, I did find out more about what happened in the mines. Also, that a man lived on that mountain and had tried to help them.

Still, I'm curious to know more...

The six-year anniversary of the first incident soon approaches.

* * *

"Jen?"

 _"Jen?"_

A young, brunette woman had her eyes locked on the paperwork on her desk, even though she wasn't reading the material. She was in a daze; relaying her own thoughts to herself. Her elbows were rested on the desk's surface as she repeatedly clicked the back of her pen.

 **"Jennifer!"**

The woman felt the dull buzz wear off and could hear someone calling her name. She blinked her eyes a few times, as if she was lost, but quickly looked up at a man that stood in the doorway, "Hm?"

"You hear me? It's late, you leaving?" A man, who was dressed in a tailored, tan suit with a blue-collared shirt, asked.

Jennifer sighed and brushed her hair behind her ear - an ear that hid a tattooed moon. "Uh, yeah, I'm just...just finishing up," she said as began to stack some papers. Upon realizing that she probably looked like a panicked fool, she looked up and shared an exaggerated grin.

The man smiled back, "Well, don't kill yourself over this. The story isn't due for another week."

"I know," Jennifer said as she continued to shuffle through paperwork and folders, "I know."

The man just watched her, but eventually spoke up. "You know, if this story is too much for you-.."

"-No!" Jennifer interjected as she looked up at the man, "No...I'm okay," she continued as she tapped her fingers on the surface of her desk.

The man, who still lingered in the doorway, looked around the office until he shifted his glance back to Jennifer. "Didn't you go to high school with them?"

"Yeah," Jennifer said as she looked up at her coworker, "I did." In all honesty, at this point in time, she wasn't as upset as she was curious. Jennifer was done grieving a long time ago, even though she couldn't properly express her emotions back then. The whole thing had too many missing pieces and it left her confused. Jennifer didn't even get to see her friends when they got back; she got no answers. She had no choice but to carry on with her life.

"Well," the man began with a nod, "Then, I'm sorry for your loss." With that, the man disappeared from the doorway, leaving Jennifer alone in her office.

Jennifer leaned back in her chair and sighed.

All of this seemed like it happened just yesterday; not six years ago. And now, she was responsible for an article on it for the town paper. For some reason, this topic jumped right at her when they were given ideas on what to write about. Many people in the office found it odd that she, of all people, would be the one to want to write about the death of her high school friends. Honestly, Jennifer didn't trust anyone else to write about it. This was something _she_ had to do.

Jennifer leaned forward and looked through countless folders until she came across a pink, sticky note that read: **'Try to get interviews!'**

Jennifer huffed as she held the note in front of her face; her pointer finger and thumb pinching it tightly. _Interviews?_ Everyone, obviously, overestimated her relationship with the victims. She hadn't seen, or talked to, these people in years. Hell, she didn't even know if they lived in town anymore.

Jennifer set the note down on her desk and flipped through a few more folders.

The thought of her bringing herself to these peoples' homes, when they probably were married, had kids, and were happy, made her sick to her stomach.

Maybe taking this project on wasn't a good idea.

Jennifer went to flip through more paper, but found herself doing a double-take.

There, clipped to the folder, was a picture of a familiar face.

Jennifer spoke softly, "...Mike.."

The picture of Mike was depressing and dark; it must have been taken right after they were picked up that year. His face was rugged and dirty - pieces of his brown hair, that was known for always being styled perfectly, fell over his forehead. He looked scared. His cheeks were bruised and bloody. He also wore a black eye on his left side. The poor guy. That's not how she remembered him at all.

* * *

 _Jennifer laughed as she watched Chris attempt to dance in front of her. If anyone was her best friend at the time, it was Chris. Actually, he was more like a brother. Jennifer continued to dance lazily, "Chris, man, I'm diggin' your moves," she joked._

 _Chris chuckled, "Oh, yeah? What about this?" Chris then turned around and began to twerk...well, to the best of his ability. "Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh," Chris chimed as he backed up into Jennifer, practically knocking her over._

 _"Oh my god, Chris!" Jennifer exclaimed with a smile as she held onto the counter for dear life._

 _Then, the beginning beat of the song, "Just Dance" by Lady Gaga, began to play and everyone in the living room shared their 'woos' - lifting their red, solo cups into the air, before joining each other in the middle of the room._

 _"Oh," Jennifer mumbled to herself as she grabbed onto Chris's shirt. There were so many people here._

 _Chris laughed and yelled to Jennifer over the music, since it blared throughout the house, "Sorry for being all up on you!" Chris was pushed into Jennifer even more when someone squeezed into the circle from behind him. "I don't really have a choice!"_

 _Jennifer chuckled, "You're good!"_

 _'What's going on, on the floor...I love this record, baby, but I can't see straight anymore..'_

 _Just like everyone had planned it, everyone screamed "Just dance!" as the beat dropped and began to jump in unison._

 _Chris and Jennifer raised their drinks in the air and hollered, just like everyone else did, "Gonna be okay!"_

 _Then, a boy who mocked a very high-pitched girl voice, yelled, "Spin that record, BABE!" Everyone in room laughed, but Jennifer didn't have the opportunity to, since the voice's owner was obnoxiously jumping up and down behind her, which was making her drink go all over the place._

 _"Woah, woah, woah," Chris said as he grabbed the guy's shoulder, "Mike! Watch out, you drunk ass!" Chris laughed._

 _"Huh?" Mike looked over his shoulder and then down to the girl that was smothered between them, "Oh, shit, my bad," he giggled in a drunken stupor. "Hey, Chris!"_

 _"Yeah, man?" Chris responded._

 _"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" Mike asked in a drawn out tone and with a ridiculous grin. He could barely stand up straight and his eyes were closed. That's how drunk he was, but that wasn't unusual for Mike. This was his party, after all, and he was always the one to drink the most._

 _Chris threw his head back and laughed, "No, I don't think you have."_

 _Mike then put a hand on Chris's shoulder and attempted to be serious - he opened his eyes, which were reddened and foggy from all of the alcohol, and straightened his face. "I'm serious, bro. You're my brother! And you," Mike said as he looked to Jennifer, "I love you, too."_

 _Jennifer raised her eyebrows and looked to Chris, who was laughing his ass off._

 _"We're family!" Mike yelled as he put his arms around Chris and Jennifer, "Family hug! Bring it in!"_

 _That was the night she truly met Mike._

* * *

Jennifer realized that she had dazed off again and shook her head to free the memories. Things were so simple back then; the biggest worry was concealing the fact that you were out partying, rather than adult responsibilities. Jennifer looked back over to the picture of Mike, "What happened to you?" she asked herself, "What happened to _all_ of you?" Jennifer didn't know if she wanted to know for the article, but rather for her peace of mind. She shared good times with these people - shouldn't she get to know what _really_ happened?

Suddenly, Jennifer came to a realization.

She wasn't doing this for the article, _she was doing this for her friends and herself._

Jennifer sat with her arms crossed over her chest across her office.

 _'I want to know, I need to know. Was the disappearance of Beth, Hannah, Josh, and Matt really because of a monster? They didn't listen to you. I trust you. This article isn't for me, this is for you. The world needs to know - the world needs to know that you aren't crazy. Chris, Ashley, Emily, Mike, Jess, Sam...help me and I'll help you. Everyone will know the truth, whatever it is. But, where do I start?'_

Jennifer then sprung back to life, grabbing a pen from the cup on the desk that homed all of her writing utensils. She then wrote,

'GET MIKE'S INFORMATION' and underlined it twice.

Jennifer stared at what she wrote, feeling a rock of saliva struggle to go down her throat. Her eyes continued to shift between each letter.

After tossing her pen on her desk, she stood up and grabbed her keys, purse, and jacket. Jennifer walked to the door and turned around to look at her desk one last time for the night.

 _This was it. How would this end? Would this end up being a simple, newspaper article or a story of her own? Either way, she'd get answers._

Jennifer turned the light off in her office and closed the door behind her.

* * *

 **A/N:** And there's the beginning of my Until Dawn sequel. I'll probably go back and beef up a few areas in the future. Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave some feedback!

 **ALSO** , I'm drawing a blank on last names here. I know some were disclosed during the game, but I can't remember and the internet isn't helping. I think Chris and Matt had their last names mentioned, but I'll have to check. I'm giving Sam, Ashley, Jessica, and Emily last names, unless someone knows. If any of you know what their last names are, please PM me so I can include them. Thanks!


	2. Susan & Tuffy

**A/N:** **For my readers that read my first chapter the DAY it was published** \- it has been rewritten. I do recommend you go back and read the improved chapter, for it is more detailed, has more references, and even includes Jen and Mike's first time meeting. Thank you!

* * *

 **Until Dusk**

Chapter Two: Susan & Tuffy

* * *

It was a busy day, as usual, at the office.

The office bustled with people - some hurried down packed aisles with paperwork in their hands, some grouped around the fax machine with a cup of coffee, and some made conversation with their neighbor by peeping over the cubicles. A man with a white button up, that was tucked into his grey slacks, turned a corner and continued his way down a hallway.

"Good morning, boss," A woman, who adorned a dress suit, momentarily looked up from a file she was holding and greeted the man walking past her.

The man nodded her way as he continued walking, "Morning, Carol." He then turned into an unbarred doorway and knocked on the wood of the open door, "Knock, knock," he said as he smiled at the woman sitting at her desk.

Jennifer looked up and smiled, "Hey," she said as she sat up straight, "How's it going?"

"Oh," The man rolled his eyes and invited himself into Jennifer's office, "Not very good. You remember the _issue_ with Pete?" He asked as he raised his eyebrows at the woman sitting before him.

Jennifer's eyes shifted around, confused by what Pete had to do with her. "Yes?"

"Well," the man began as he walked over to Jennifer, "Pete filed a complaint against me, his boss, of all people. Can you believe it? I can't. I've given that prick no reason." He then rested a hand on Jennifer's shoulder, "Oh, and Michelle. Have you seen her tits lately? I guess her bonus came in handy," he said as he laughed and looked down at Jennifer's desk, "HEY, What are you working on?"

Jennifer, who was used to her boss's perverse ways, shook off his comment and looked back down at her desk. "Oh," she began as she shuffled paper around, "The Blackwood Pines article…I'm on it," Jennifer answered as she looked up at her boss. She donned a smile, obviously trying to display how proud she was to her boss. It was hard to maintain professionalism when it came to her article's topic, but she had to pretend she was content just writing it; not curious.

"I see," her boss said as he shifted his footing, "And the phone book?" He asked as he gestured toward the large book that sat on Jennifer's disheveled desk.

"Um," Jennifer said as she quickly looked over to the book and then back up at her boss, "For possible interviews." Jennifer sat up straight, her hands folded over each other in her lap. This man made her very nervous, but there wasn't much she could do. Rick Moore has been her boss for four years and also happened to the man that offered her the internship years ago; it was best not to get on his bad side.

Moore raised an eyebrow, "Ah, so I see you found my sticky note."

"Yep!" Jennifer said as she pulled the note off of her computer screen, "Got it right here!"

"Good," Moore said, but he paused for a moment. "Did you read the back?"

Jennifer wore a surprised, and very confused, look on her face. "Uh," Jennifer stuttered before turning the note over and reading the back. It read:

 _'Coffee?'_

"Oh," Jennifer chuckled and looked back up at her boss, who also chuckled. His chuckle, however, sounded confident and sly. "Um," Jennifer spat out as she returned her hands to her lap, "You know, I'd love to.." _No._ "...but, this article, you know, I'm going to be really busy with it.." _Hell to the no._ Jennifer tilted her head and shared a playful grin when she noticed her boss nodding while looking at the ground, "I'm sorry." _Screw you._

Her boss, who still maintained a level of cockiness, looked up and smiled, "No, don't worry about." He started to make his way to the door, but turned around to look a Jennifer. "A woman who chooses work over a date is to be respected," he said as he jokingly saluted her and winked, "That's what I love about you, Jen." After walking out of Jennifer's office, he began to chat with another woman down the hallway, which Jennifer could hear from her office.

Jennifer leaned over and peered into the hallway - the coast was clear. She let out a sigh of relief, with wide eyes, before resting her head on her desk.

 _Jen: 20 Boss: 0_

Jennifer had been avoiding her boss's advances for years now. If only he'd move on...well, he would, after preying on a new, female in the office, but he always comes back. Unfortunately.

After letting out a final sigh, Jennifer lifted her head, which sported the sticky note from earlier. She looked to the phone book and pulled it over to her, since picking it up was simply _too_ exhausting. Her eyes skimmed down the page; completely dismissing the multiple 'Micheal Munroe's' that were idly crossed out. Jennifer rested her chin on the open, phone book and closed her eyes. She was so tired. She could barely sleep the night before because of everything; she could feel the dark circles around her eyes with every blink. On top of that, she decided to get an early start and come into the office early. Unfortunately, no luck, though she did have an entertaining conversation with a _possible_ Mike earlier.

* * *

 _"Hello?" A voice asked on the other side of the phone._

 _Jennifer, who sat bored and was rolling her pen back and forth in front of her, quickly sat up and responded, "Hello? Hi!"_

 _"Hello?" The voice asked again. It was definitely a male voice._

 _"Hi, my name's Jennifer Boothe, is Michael Munroe in?" Jennifer said as she patted her foot on the ground, beneath her desk._

 _"Hello?" The voice asked once again._

 _Jennifer blinked a few times in confusion, "Yeah, hello? Is this Micheal Munroe-..?"_

 _"-Yes, this is him," the voice said._

 _"Great-!"_

 _"Do you like pot pies?"_

 _Jennifer's face contorted in absolute bafflement and pulled the phone from her ear and looked at. "Um," she said as she put the phone back to her ear, "I do."_

 _"I do as well. Do you know anywhere in town where I could get some delicious, pot pies? My wife used to make these incredibly pot pies, ya know, before she passed - carrots, potatoes, peas - she even put scallions in them, just for me. Those pot pies were very tasty. I'd love some pot pies. Do you like pot pies?"_

 _Say 'pot pies' one more time._

 _Jennifer's face slowly became expressionless upon realizing this wasn't the Micheal she was looking for; it was an elderly man who, obviously, had a love for pot pies. As Jennifer dazed off, letting the man's looping rant turn into sounds that were comparable to the teacher in Charlie Brown, she sat quietly until she found the perfect time to interrupt. "Hey! Sorry!" She laughed uncomfortably, "Um, I must have the wrong number. I hope you find your pot pies!" As she withdrew her phone from her ear, she could still hear the man._

 _"Pot pies? I love pot pies. Do you like-.."_

 _"Ah!" Jennifer exclaimed as she pressed 'end' on her phone. She felt bad for hanging up on him, but what was she supposed to do? Well, at least she knew how to make a pot pie from scratch now, if one wishes to look at the positives._

 _Jennifer then crossed that Micheal Munroe off on the phone book, "Nope."_

* * *

Jennifer exhaled and watched as her pen rolled off of the phone book. This was starting to become incredibly difficult; maybe it was time to look up someone else. She could always try to find Chris, which, honestly, made her feel better. If anyone were to agree to help her, it would be him. Jennifer sat up, opened one of her desk drawers, and pulled out another phone book. This one, however, was for the next town over; _Inglestone;_ Chris never lived in Blackwood. After high school, Chris's parents moved out and rented their house to their son. Who knows if he still lived there, specifically, but there's a huge possibility that he lives in Inglestone still.

Jennifer opened the phone book and flipped it open to the 'N' section. She peered down at the book, "Oh my, god.."

 _65 'Chris Neesons' in Inglestone._

Jennifer sighed in defeat, but something caught her eye. She ran her finger over a certain name that included a vocation, "Chris Neeson... _Neeson Electronic Repairs_.." Jennifer said as her eyes beamed, "That's him. That's got to be him." Jennifer began to dial the number provided, making sure to look back at the book to double check the numbers. She put her phone to ear and sat impatiently as she heard the connecting tone.

A female answered, "Hello?"

Jennifer immediately hung up and fell back into her chair.

 _Obviously_ , that wasn't Chris.

Screw it.

...

She sat there quietly for a few minutes - the annoying, ticking clock causing her to glare at it.

 _'This is ridiculous. Why can't everyone just live in the same-...'_

Jennifer's eyes widened as she bounced back to life. Her excitement caused her chair to roll back slightly, causing her to groan, but comply and scoot forward. Jennifer turned the Inglestone phone book to the 'M' section and there he was... _maybe_.

 _1 'Michael Munroe' in Inglestone._

Jennifer dialed the numbers carefully, just as she did earlier, and put her phone to her ear.

It rang, and rang, and rang...

No answer.

"Of course," Jennifer said in a miffed tone as she tossed her phone onto her desk.

* * *

A man, who appeared to sleep peacefully, suddenly sat up in panic. He opened his eyes and stared forward as he attempted to catch his breath. The man's chest was covered in sweat; perspiration coated him evenly and danced upon the damp, thin hair that grew up his chest. Liquid beads ran down his face as he continued to look forward in a daze. He sat in silence for a while; letting reality set in and remind him that he was okay. He looked around his bedroom and sighed upon realizing that it was just another nightmare. He jaw stiffened as he sat embarrassed with himself. The man let out a hefty exhale as he ran his fingers through his short, sodden, brown hair. After lifting the blankets off, he went to get off the bed, but found himself sitting on the edge in silence.

* * *

Jennifer looked at the phone book with her arms crossed, "Hm.." She bit the inside of her cheek as she sat there, deep in thought. Jennifer couldn't help but stare at the address provided.

 _'1467 Water Creek Rd.'_

Jennifer smiled, but then looked away, "No!" she mumbled to herself, "You're not going to go over there."

* * *

The man stood hunched over the sink, his hands rested on the both sides; tapping anxiously with his fingers. Steam permeated the room; fogging up the mirror he attempted to look into. After running a palm across the bathroom mirror, he finally saw himself. He remained expressionless; a body without a soul. Lately, this has been his morning routine. He stood exposed - a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was no longer saturated from the struggle of his dreams, but from a balmy, sweltering shower.

* * *

After a few more glances at the phone book, Jennifer grabbed the page and tore it out of the book. She stood up and grabbed her jacket off of her chair; putting it on quickly as she stared down at everything on her desk, as if everything would run away if she wasn't looking. Right after Jennifer got her arm through the second, jacket sleeve, she grabbed what she needed off of her desk and bolted out the door. Oh, and upon walking outside of her office, Jennifer finally took notice of the sticky note on her forehead. She pulled it off and went to throw it, but it took a few times. Sticky notes are really good at getting stuck on you.

* * *

Calloused fingers buttoned up the last button on a plaid shirt. The man pulled at the collar in order to keep it loose.

* * *

Jennifer opened the door on the passenger's side of her car and tossed her paperwork and purse onto the seat. After closing the door, Jennifer walked quickly around the car as she looked around. Technically, she wasn't supposed to be leaving work, but it was so close to lunch that she thought she'd be okay. Though, a straggling employee could be around to screw that up for her. The coast was clear. Jennifer got into her car and turned the ignition on - not even hesitating to grab the paper, with the address, and look it over again.

* * *

The man ran a hand through his hair, turning his head ever so slightly in order to look at a different angle. He leaned in and looked at himself closer in the mirror; deciding that his hair wasn't to his standards. He continued to style his brown hair with the three fingers he had on his right hand. After deeming his hair acceptable, he left the bathroom once again.

* * *

Jennifer continued to drive down the freeway, the page in her lap.

 _'Take the next exit in 1.5 miles,'_ beamed Jennifer's GPS.

* * *

The man grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys as he walked towards the front door. He threw open the door and slammed it behind him before walking out onto the driveway. As he was getting into his truck, he noticed his neighbor with her dog. The dog sniffed around on the lawn and the older lady watched contently.

"Good morning, Susan," The man said as he looked through the open, passenger side window from the driver's seat; a sweet smile plastered on his face.

The woman looked up, a hand rested on her chest. "Oh," she smiled, "Good morning, Mike!"

The truck rumbled when the ignition was turned on. The man lifted a hand, which gestured a wave, before looking over his shoulder. He rested his right hand on the passenger's seat head rest as he backed his truck down the driveway. The man had his music turned all the way up; the whole neighborhood was lucky enough to be waken up by "Fireman" by Lil Wayne on full blast. Every time the bass hit, the truck rumbled, but this didn't bother the older woman; she just continued to smile and wave. When all four tires were on asphalt, the man turned the tires and made his way down the street; the engine of his truck roaring as he picked up speed.

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Jennifer peered over her steering wheel as she turned onto Water Creek Rd. She looked at the numbers on the houses; her head twisting left and right multiple times. "Okay," Jennifer said as she looked out the passenger window, "It's going to be on the right side." As the numbers on the houses started to approach 1467, she slowed down her car.

1463.

1465.

 _1467._

Jennifer pulled over to the curb and visually inspected the house from her car. Her foot patted the floorboard of the car nervously; the sound of repetitive thumps the only thing audible.

The house was nice, but not _too_ nice; definitely something Mike would live in. It was a single story, family home and appeared very bare. Maybe he's married now; maybe he has kids. She didn't see any sign of children, though. The only thing in the yard was a small palm tree that appeared to have been there since the house was on the market; all brown, dry, and brittle. Jennifer also noticed dark, tire marks on the driveway.

Jennifer grabbed her files and paperwork and got out of her car. For some reason, she couldn't move. If he's here, what would she even say? Jennifer put on her sunglasses, took a deep breath, and made it halfway up the driveway before she realized that she, probably, shouldn't bring all her material. How overwhelming that would be. She ran down the driveway, opened her passenger door, threw her papers in, and shut the door.

Jennifer looked at her own feet as she walked up the driveway, now for a second time. As the driveway passed her off onto a narrow, cement pathway, she followed it to the front door. She spun around a few times; observing the house's exterior. The house looked vacant; the grass was an off green and longer than the other houses and the stucco darkened near the roof. This was either a sign of no owner or pure laziness, and although Mike did fit the latter, something didn't feel right. Well, she _was_ approaching a house that she _hoped_ was owned by a former, kinda-sorta friend, so not feeling right was expected.

Before Jennifer could talk herself into turning back, she took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. "Okay," she mumbled to herself as she looked around some more. She flapped her hands down at her sides and tried to put herself in the least awkward stance.

After a minute passed, Jennifer opened the screen door slowly and knocked a few times. After, she immediately closed the screen and stepped back.

 _'Maybe the doorbell doesn't work.'_

Another minute passed and it became obvious that no one was home. Jennifer glanced towards the front window and slowly stepped over some dead, prickly bushes to get to it. "Ow," Jennifer moaned as she shook her foot free from the attacking death plant. She leaned in and made goggles with her hands to see inside. This did no good, for the window was perfectly aligned with the door that went to the backyard. "Hm," Jennifer said as she smiled.

She had a plan.

Jennifer held herself as she walked quickly around the house. As she walked on the driveway, she looked around to make sure no neighbors were outside. Thankfully, there was no one to be seen; therefore, no one would see her. She turned the corner on the opposite side of the house and was met by a wooden gate that was, maybe, 5'6" tall - but, it also had a steel lock on it. Jennifer tugged on the lock and, what do you know, it was locked. She sighed as she stepped back. "Someone wouldn't own a lock if they didn't use it, right?" Jennifer asked herself.

Then, Jennifer looked around suspiciously. Still, no one was outside.

Jennifer smirked and gripped the top of the gate, but then started to rethink everything.

Should I **turn back** or **climb over**?

Jennifer shrugged, "Oh well," she said as she struggled to pull herself up, "Here...goes...nothing." With a few more grunts and groans, Jennifer had her right leg up on the top of the gate.

 _Breaking and Entering - classy journalist._

"Woah," Jennifer spat out as the gate started to wobble. "No..." Jennifer practically begged, but we all know wooden gates can't reason. She heard the wood crack. "No, no!" Jennifer cried as the gate fell off of its hinges, bringing her down with it. Jennifer fell to her hands and knees; the gate crashing down behind her. Jennifer widened her eyes and looked behind her, "Shit.."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jennifer could see something glimmer.

A key.

"You mean I could have unlocked it?" Jennifer asked out of breath, "Perfect." While still on her hands and knees, Jennifer looked up in front of her and surveyed the area. A single, white butterfly glided in tranquility right in front of Jennifer's nose, which she completely dismissed. She swatted it away, thinking it was a fly, and carried on.

Jennifer stood up and groaned, "Great. What now?"

* * *

An elderly woman snorted as she abruptly woke from a nap in her recliner.

 _'What was that? I could have swore I heard a crash.'_

She turned to look at her small dog, who was at the window barking.

"What's this? You have to go potty again?" She asked as she slowly stood up. However, her dog didn't race to the door, he just continued to bark out the window; his small, front legs perched on the window sill. "What? What do you see?" The woman chuckled, but her face turned serious when she saw movement between the cracks in her neighbor's fence. The woman's eyebrows narrowed - she knew her friend just left; he wasn't home. "Let's go, Tuffy, we've got company," The woman said seriously.

* * *

Well, since Jennifer already destroyed private property, she figured she might as well snoop a little. Jennifer slowly, and very carefully, walked down the side yard.

"What? Nothing back here either," Jennifer whispered, still slightly out of breath. There wasn't anything in the backyard, just long, dead grass. Jennifer put her back up against the house and looked around the corner. She was in the clear. Jennifer slowly walked out onto the backyard patio and in front of the sliding glass door; the door she saw from the front yard. She walked closer; her reflection in glass walking towards her. Like before, she made goggles with her hands, and looked inside.

Jennifer chuckled to herself, "Hey, look, furniture.." Sure enough, there was furniture inside: a couch, a TV, a table, and chairs. It was very basic; a sign that no woman lived there, that's for sure. Jennifer found herself trying to make out the faces in a picture frame, but it was too far. What was very clear was the baseball bat that leaned against the wall, near the front door, and the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter; whoever lived here was obviously in an distressed rut.

"Jesus!" Jennifer jumped when her phone rang. She dug through her pockets desperately - she didn't want to blow her cover. Jennifer jostled her phone in her hands; almost dropping it, but immediately brought it to her ear after and whispered, "Hello?"

 _"Hey! There's my favorite!"_

Jennifer rolled her eyes. Great, it was her boss.

 _"Where did you run off to?"_

"No where, I just took lunch," Jennifer continued to whisper.

 _"Why are you whispering?"_ Her boss asked playfully.

Then, Jennifer heard the neighbor's door slam. She whispered harshly as she looked in the slam's direction, "Shit." She needed to leave, like, NOW.

 _"What?"_ Her boss asked confused.

"Uh, no, not you, sorry," Jennifer said as she started to walk towards the gate.

 _"Hey,"_ her boss chuckled, _"Is everything alright?"_

"Yeah, everything's fine," Jennifer said as she picked up the pace, "I'll see you back at the office."

 _"Sounds good, I'll be waiting."_

Jennifer pressed 'end' and groaned. After stepping over the broken gate, she looked back at it. "Um, uh," she stammered. Jennifer grunted as she picked up the gate and laid it against the cement wall. "That should do it," she mumbled. Jennifer let out a sigh of relief as she started to walk down the driveway.

 **"Hello, there!"**

Jennifer's eyes widened as she jumped from being startled; the scare making her throw her phone halfway down the driveway on accident. "Uh," Jennifer said as she looked over to the neighbor's yard. Oh, no - a witness. Time to play it cool. Jennifer smiled sweetly, "Hi!"

An older woman tilted her head and smiled, "Are you a friend of Mike's?" she asked casually. The woman was the perfect example of what anyone's grandmother would look like: some purple pants, a jean, button up shirt that had kitten patches sown above the breast pocket, and a short haircut that naturally made her white hair voluminous. Not to mention, she wore a dark, burnt berry lipstick; the kind you get all over your face at family gatherings. Jennifer could practically smell it.

 _Lie. You need to lie._

"Uh," Jennifer stuttered as she began to pick up parts of her phone, "Yeah!" Jennifer stood up straight as she popped the battery back into her phone and closed the back of it, "Yeah, I am!" Jennifer squinted her eyes, for the sun was hitting her directly in the face, and smiled at the woman again, "Are you?"

"Oh, yes, we've become quite good friends," the elderly woman beamed. Without even a small invitation, the woman introduced herself, "I'm Susan."

Jennifer rested a hand above her eyes to shield them from the sun, "Jennifer."

At this point, it _still_ wasn't evident that _this_ Michael Munroe was the _actual_ Michael Munroe. All Jennifer knew was that this Michael was chatting up an elderly woman on the daily, which didn't sound the Mike she remembered. "So, what do you think of Mike?" Jennifer asked. Hopefully this woman, who claims to know Mike well (but let's hope not too well), can relay back the way he looks or acts. There has to be a key factor that Jennifer could pick up on; there has to be an old habit or trait that Mike falls back on still. Maybe his looks? His charm? Hell, this could be the wrong guy and Jennifer wasn't about to talk about pot pies again.

"Oh, honey," Susan swooned as she fanned herself with the collar of her shirt, "He's sure a tall glass of water, isn't he?" The woman chortled a goofy laugh, but kept the smile that resulted from it. "Heh, heh, if only I was a few _decades_ younger."

 _Yep, this had to be the right Mike._

Jennifer slowly nodded, "Right. And this _Mike_ , does he have girls over often?" This should determine everything - that is, _if_ Mike didn't change his ways.

Susan seemed taken aback, "Good heavens, no. He's quite the gentleman; always asking if there's anything to do around here for me. When it comes to women, I'd say I'm the only one that's been around him." The older woman then backtracked, "Well, at least here."

 _How odd._

"Does he work?" Jennifer asked. This, probably, wouldn't dictate anything, but it didn't hurt to ask.

Susan nodded, "Yeah, all the time. He cleans my rain gutters," she said as she looked up and gestured towards the roof of her house, "He does a great job, actually. He even cleans my pool from time to time, paints the deck, and watches Tuffy when I go out of town."

"Toughy?" Jennifer asked.

"Yeah, Tuffy," she said happily, "Come here, Tuffy." The elder lady then leaned down and began to scratch her Maltese behind the ears, "You're such a good boy," she said in a baby voice. Tuffy soaked up the affection he got from his owner, but then looked up at Jennifer and growled.

"It fits," Jennifer said casually. She then snapped herself out of it and remembered the more pressing matter. "I mean, does Mike have a job?"

Susan tilted her head and shared a look of concern, "You don't know?"

 _Shit._

Before Jennifer could say anything, Susan continued. "He's in construction! You know the houses down the street; the new development? He's a part of that; helped build those houses. I mean, I'd say that's pretty impressive given his, you know, _disability_."

 _Woah, what? Disability?_

As if Jennifer didn't even have control over her choice of words, she blurted out her question. "-Disability?" I mean, there's a substantial chance that Mike suffered from mental problems, considering what he went through, but what could be so bad that it would effect his work?

Susan seemed a little flustered when it came to answering. "Oh, you know, his...," she began as she lifted a hand and lowered her voice, "..his fingers.."

 _Okay, maybe this wasn't the same guy._

Jennifer decided that her search for the day was over - this conversation, though pleasant, wasn't going anywhere.

"Alright," Jennifer huffed, "I better get going."

"Nonsense!" The woman exclaimed, "Mike will be back very soon. Why don't you stick around-?"

"-No!" Jennifer practically yelled, causing both her and the woman to blink in bewilderment, "...no." Jennifer chuckled nervously, "It's okay, I'll just come back later."

"Okay, well I'll let Mike know you stopped by," the woman said nonchalantly.

Jennifer tried to respond as polite as possible, all while walking backwards down the driveway, "No, it's okay."

"Are you _sure_?" The woman asked. The tone in the woman's voice, however, made it sound as if she was playing a game; like she knew Jennifer wasn't supposed to be there. Also, to back up this theory, Tuffy began to growl at Jennifer as she backed away from the house.

"I'm sure," Jennifer said with a smile, "Thank you, though." Jennifer quickly turned around and walked hastily to her car.

Her shoulders sat parallel to her chin; her body was stiff in absolute embarrassment. Why did she come here? Why, for even a second, did she think coming to this house was a good idea? This was what Jennifer feared: getting too caught up in the idea that she would find answers. With a mental vow, she promised herself she wouldn't become obsessed; she couldn't afford it. Whatever time she invested into this needed to be for the article, and anything she found out in the mean time could be to ease her mind. That had to be the rule.

Susan's voice chimed from her front lawn, "Have a good night!" The older woman waved eagerly and cheerfully, as if she was truly the dumb fox she thought Jennifer made her out to be. After the young girl whipped around and waved a hand to in response, Susan lifted her chin towards Jennifer's car with a brow risen. She knew Jennifer hadn't been invited - perhaps she was but a young girl who's heart yearned for the young neighbor's love. That would surely explain things. The distant conversation, the uncertainty, the inconsistent eye contact - it all made sense. Susan snickered and looked down at Tuffy, "Poor thing. Sure seemed lost, didn't she?" As if Tuffy actually understood her, he let out a conceding bark. "Come now," Susan said as turned to the front door, "It's time for lunch."

* * *

A few blocks over, Jennifer sat in her parked car. As she lightly drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, she took deep breaths in order to calm herself down. Although she was a journalist, confrontation caused anxiety and anxiety plagued her. This wasn't something new; this was something she always had, but it still took its toll. After calming herself, she realized that it seemed late in the day. Upon looking at the time, Jennifer realized that she was late going back to work. Why didn't anyone call? Jennifer picked her phone up from off of the passenger's seat and pressed the 'on' button, but the screen remained black.

There wasn't anything more fitting than an exaggerated groan. Jennifer laid her head back onto the seat's headrest and sighed. She must have broken her phone when she dropped it. At this point, Jennifer was agitated and flummoxed all at once. Mostly at herself, since this already seemed like a dreadful idea, but also because she had just purchased her phone two weeks ago. As Jennifer bathed in her own hopelessness, her phone decided to take a nose dive out of her hand and plunge into the depths of 'between-the-seat-and-compartment'.

"No, you didn't," she whined at her phone.

As Jennifer leaned down in order to peer between the seats, a truck drove right past her.

The truck driver paid no attention to the car that was parked at the curb, though he was aware of its existence. To him, it was just another automobile that sat idle on the street.

 _Sometimes, things don't happen as easily as you want them to and, sometimes, that's how its meant to be._

 _Your choices can dictate how your day goes; what you do, who you meet, and what happens._

 _What happens now can happen later and what happens later, could easily happen now._

 _That's what you call... **The Butterfly Effect.**_

* * *

 **A/N:** There we go! Chapter 2! Of course, finding everyone can't be that _easy_. *wink. I hope none of you get bored easily; this chapter was something you had to sit through, but I promise you some confrontations soon.

Sillabye: Thank you! I do have two other active stories right now, but I've been so into UD lately that I should be updating at a good rate.

EliMustang: Ohhh, yeeeeah! ;) I promises yew.

Leyshla Gisel: Aw, thank you! That means a lot. I know, right? There aren't any Mike/OCs yet, but I'm sure they'll started to blossom soon! Hopefully. I get that everyone loves Josh and Chris (I do too), but Mike is..mmph! Can't even explain, lol. Like I told Sillabye, I'm literally obsessed with UD right now, so I should be updating a good pace. :)


	3. Right Under Your Nose

**A/N:** This chapter is sort of a filler - I hope you still enjoy it! I've been pretty busy lately (I just moved), so I'm sorry I can't bring a large story-building chapter right at this very moment. However, it is a suspense-building chapter...I guess? :)

 _For added atmosphere, listen to the song 'Let It Happen' by Tame Impala_ for the second half of the story (lyrics are included in this chapter). Oh, and no, I don't plan on doing a lot of songfic chapters, lol.

* * *

 **Until Dusk**

Chapter 3: Right Under Your Nose

* * *

 _Jennifer decided to trespass; Jennifer broke Mike's fence; The commotion woke up the neighbor; Jennifer met Susan_

* * *

With a loud yawn, the man from before opened his front door and stepped outside. It was a pretty gloomy day, but that wasn't a surprise. Oh, a cloudy day in Seattle...shocker. After he made it to the driveway, he flung a closed, trash bag over his shoulder and continued to walk around to the side of the house. It was obvious he was tired; his eyes were still at half-mast from a lengthy nap and his brown hair, that was usually gelled up and styled slightly to the right, was now disheveled. As he turned the corner, he stopped and stared at his crippled fence. Taken completely by surprise, he dropped the trash bag on the ground; the sound of beer bottles, an empty jug of Sailor Jerry, and other devoid, glass items clanking on the cement. He leaned his head back as he exhaled an irked groan. "Great," he sighed as he continued to look at it. Seriously, he already had a list of shit that needed to be repaired. Well, there goes more money that he didn't have.

"Mike," a cheerful voice chimed from behind him.

After dropping the trash bag into a larger, trash receptacle, Mike turned around. "Oh, hey, Susan," Mike said, his voice unintentionally becoming higher and more cordial than usual. Mike felt odd admitting it to himself, but this woman was his _only_ friend these days; every time the spunky, old woman stepped outside of her house, he was genuinely happy to see her.

They talked a lot - they both had invited each other over. Well, Susan did more of the inviting, including inviting herself in, but Mike didn't mind. She always made sure Mike was fed and, overall, okay. Granted, she trusted him enough to not check on him every day. Mike loved her snacks, too: she always have a batch of sugar cookies for him, especially after Mike finished tasks for her: whether it be cleaning her pool (that was never used), cleaning out her rain gutters, or painting the deck (or all of it in one day).

The woman suspected that her neighbor struggled, even though he hadn't voiced his troubles. The old woman took pleasure in reading the newspaper; she knew who Mike Munroe was: one of the survivors from the Canadian excursion gone wrong. Susan never asked about the incident; she kept her curiosity to herself. However, if something were to come up that involved her young friend and trouble, she'd be there to tell him.

Susan, who today wore a button up with mockingbirds on it, a shawl, and tan slacks, carried herself up the lawn as quick as she could. "You, uh," Susan began as she smiled, slightly out of breath, "You had a visitor. I meant to tell you a few days ago, but I couldn't catch you in time," she then chuckled, "You're always off doing something."

Mike cocked his head slightly as he squinted his eyes in confusion, "Someone came to my house–?"

"–Yeah!" Susan laughed, obviously playing into Mike's shock. The old woman then glanced at Mike's broken gate, "She left quite the mess."

"Uh," Mike began, "She–?" _She_ is good; he could deal with _she_.

Susan, who continued her act of utter shock, looked back to Mike quickly, "–Yeah! She said she was a friend of yours - uhm." Susan tried her hardest to remember the girl's name that trespassed onto Mike's property, "–Oh, it started with a 'J'. Jessica, maybe–.."

Mike smiled as he looked down. "Uh," he began as he looked back up, "No, it wasn't Jessica." Mike still spoke happily, but there was a hint of passiveness. He knew Susan was only trying to help, but it wasn't the first time she mixed his girlfriend's name up with someone else. Susan didn't have the best memory, but Mike had a suspicion that Susan didn't know that about herself. Whenever they talked, Susan would ask how 'Jill, Jasmine, or even Aubrey' was doing. Where Aubrey came from, he had no idea.

"–Oh! Darn it, it's on the tip of my tongue!" Susan persisted.

Mike shared a sweet grin as he placed a hand on Susan's shoulder. "Hey," Mike said as he chuckled, "Don't worry about it. Ya know, I've been home and it doesn't look like anything's been stolen." Though, his comment came out more as a question than anything.

"Well, you should still call the cops, Mike," Susan said as she looked up at the tall, young _gentleman._

Mike looked away and spoke with a goofy tone, "Nah."

"–She could be dangerous," Susan continued.

"–I'm fine; I can take care of myself," Mike promised as she shot the older woman a wink.

Susan crossed her arms, obviously accustomed to Mike's charm. "Mhm, and I suppose you have a fresh, gallon of milk sitting in your fridge right now." This would get him. Susan knew Mike's living habits: he still had trouble remembering to lower the toilet seat (a story for another day), he felt no shame when wrapping himself in a towel he used to clean his truck after showering, and he probably washed his sheets more than he went grocery shopping. So, like, _never._

"Uh," Mike chuckled as he shifted his eyes away, "I do not."

Susan huffed, "Figures."

"What?" Mike asked as he started walking backwards to the driveway, arms up in a shrug, "Why buy milk when your neighbor has milk?"

"Pft," Susan spat as she rolled her eyes, but immediately smiled after. "Munroe, I hope you know this old woman isn't going to be around forever."

Mike looked to Susan as he lifted his garage door, "Why not?"

"Just," Susan began, but Mike's struggling to get his garage door up proved to be quite distracting. Susan closed her eyes and sighed, "Just promise me–"

"–God, you stupid, fuckin' thing!" Mike gratingly whispered to himself.

"–Promise me that you'll go out and get yourself something nice to eat...okay?"

"GOD!" Mike exclaimed when he finally was able to push up on the old, cracked, termite-infested slab of wood that one would call a garage door. "Whew!" Mike said as he walked into the garage. After realizing Susan had been talking to him the whole time, Mike peeked from around the garage and nodded to her, "Hear you loud and clear, beautiful."

Susan gasped and placed her hand over her chest, "Oh, you little devil. I'm not even wearing my 'Pop of Sangria' lipstick today _and_ I'm wearing silver instead of gold; you don't have to lie, sweetheart, today isn't really my day, oh– are you going somewhere?"

As Mike backed his truck out onto the driveway, he smiled in Susan's direction, "Always."

Was Mike weirded out by his intruder? Yes and no. Yes; because you don't just waltz onto someone's property. That's just weird. No; because Mike didn't really own anything valuable anymore. He was curious about who trespassed, though.

"Starts with a 'J', huh?" Mike asked himself with a smirk, "Well, 'J', all you had to do was ask."

* * *

Have you ever desperately looked for something when it ended up being right in front of you?

For days, weeks even, you search, but it can't be found.

In the office, Jennifer had her head propped up with one hand. She flicked her pen around as she read through paperwork; paperwork that wasn't getting her anywhere. With a sigh, Jennifer looked up and over at the sticky note that was stuck on her computer screen. Alongside the note: **GET INTERVIEWS** , sat her due date: **February 2nd.** Jennifer exhaled through her nostrils as she set her chin down on her desk. Nothing; she had nothing - it had been two weeks. Right as she was getting comfortable, she saw the shadow of her boss walking past the windows in front of her office. Jennifer sat up quickly and watched as her Moore walked by, practically in slow motion, and gave her a nod with a smile. To make it look like everything was going great, Jennifer smiled and nodded in return.

She needed air; she needed to get out; she needed to take a walk.

Forgetting to grab everything, Jennifer walked out of her office and down the stairs. She watched as other people in building walked up the stairs, in the opposite direction as her, but for the remainder of the walk to the door, she looked to the ground.

 _'It's always around me, ...all this noise,'_

As Jennifer walked out of the building of The Seattle Newspaper, she groaned and immediately turned around; rushing past the doors before they could even close. She forgot her purse, of course she did.

 _'But, not nearly as loud as the voice saying,_

 _Let it happen, let it happen,_

 _Just let it happen, let it happen'_

A man with a blonde, faux hawk and black-rimmed glasses, walked down the street, a Starbucks latte in his hand. This wasn't where he usually hung out; this was a break from his routine. Honestly, he wasn't in the heart of Seattle often. After taking a sip from his cup - his wedding band glistening-, he looked up at The Seattle Newspaper building as he walked by. He had seen that building many times, but never walked past it before. Sure, it was neat, but it was just a building. "Hm," he murmured as he stuck his free hand in his pocket, "So this is where they write the Seattle _news_." In a way, he wasn't impressed. The news was always 25% useful information and 75% celebrity gossip - which he didn't follow. The Kardashians, Brangelina, Miley Cyrus - he didn't care.

 **.Hipster Boy.**

Hipster Boy straightened up when he heard something vibrating in his pocket. He dug around for a bit until he found his phone and brought it to his ear. "Yeeeloh?" He asked with a smile, obviously knowing who it was. "–What?" He asked, seeming a bit flustered. "Hold on, slow down," he chuckled, "What did Cody do?" If someone were to be standing next to him, they'd probably be able to hear bits and pieces of the conversation on the other end. Hipster Boy belted out a laugh, "Okay, well I'll be home soon. I just had to come out to Seattle to help an old, lesbian couple fix their Internet - no big deal. Huh? Did I get their numbers? Oh, well of course I did," he joked. "But, I'm on my way to the car now; I'll see you soon...I love you too...bye." As he put his phone back in his pocket, he took a deep breath. _'Man, that's the married life for you.'_

Upon realizing he had to cross the street to get to his destination, he walked up to a crosswalk and pressed the pedestrian button. He scrunched up his neck; the collar of his NorthFace jacket tickling it slightly. He looked around to see how many cars he'd have to wait for and, thankfully, it didn't look like he had many to worry about. He let out a hefty exhale; his breath creating a cloud in the cold, Seattle air.

* * *

Mike pulled up to a red light and sighed, leaning his head back on the headrest. Suddenly, a small 'ding' caught his attention. He looked down and noticed that his phone's screen was illuminated: showing the time and that he had a text. He smiled and picked up; holding it in front of him.

 _3:45pm (Jess): Well I hope u do plan on visiting me again. I miss u :) xxxx_

Mike chuckled and bit his bottom lip. "Mhm, I bet you do," Mike mumbled to himself.

* * *

'WALK', said the glowing stick figure on the screen.

The blonde man, who waited impatiently on the sidewalk, hopped off of the curb and walked quickly across the crosswalk; walking right in front of the truck that was stopped at the red light.

* * *

 _3:46pm (Me): I'm working on my ticket. It might not be for a while but I really want to come see you again. You know I do ;)_

 _3:46pm (Jess): Actually I might be coming home soon :DD_

 _3:47pm (Me): When?!_

* * *

By now, the blonde man was walking up onto the curb on the other side of the street.

* * *

With a smile, Mike finally looked up. Jess was coming home? His smile grew to a toothy grin as he turned up the music in his truck. Mike looked up at the stoplight as it turned green and he didn't hesitate to step on the gas. His truck was loud, which caused the blonde man from earlier to look over his shoulder as he walked down the sidewalk.

* * *

Jennifer let out a sigh of annoyance when she finally left the building. As she walked down the sidewalk, she pulled her knit gloves out of her purse and slipped them on. Unfortunately, gloves wouldn't do that much. Jennifer held herself as she continued past Leslie's Dry Cleaners. As she passed the cleaners, she couldn't help but look back when she heard yelling. Due to the glare of the city lights in the window, she couldn't see inside, but she didn't need to get involved in something like that anyway. All Jennifer did was chuckle to herself as she continued to walk down the sidewalk.

 _'All this running around,_

 _Trying to cover my shadow,_

 _An ocean growing inside,_

 _All the others seem shallow,'_

* * *

"Are you fucking kidding me?" A girl exclaimed as she held her sweater up in front of her own face, "Like really?" The girl had medium-long, black hair and her physical appearance exhibited that she was of Asian decent, even though her face was contorted in anger. "You shrunk it–!"

 **.Rude Girl.**

The lady behind the counter smiled nervously and attempted to apologize, "I'm sorry–"

The angry girl huffed and leaned over the counter, "Where's your manager? _Obviously_ you, for some reason, don't know shit about washing expensive–," she hissed rudely.

"Ma'am–"

"I said get me your manager! Seriously–" Rude Girl began as she looked at the employee's name tag, "– _Maria_ , get him. If you think I won't come back there and find him myself, you're wrong."

After the ordeal at the cleaners, Rude Girl walked out of the establishment with multiple items of clothing on hangers, draped over her shoulder. After putting on her sunglasses, she groaned when she heard her phone ring. Rude Girl stopped walking for a moment to fish her phone out of her bag.

"What? ... Oh, hey babe.." Suddenly, Rude Girl went from _rude_ to cheery, but only for a second. "Ugh, no. So, like, I went to pick up my sweater, right? They completely destroyed it. What? No, not my Vera one; my black one from Caché - oh, my god, I would die," she said as she chuckled.

"Excuse me–," said a woman outside of a veterinarian's office.

"Right, because I have time do that, Rick, please–"

"Excuse me, would you like to donate a dollar to Seattle's Humane Society–?" The woman asked again.

"-Oh, my god," the girl on the phone said. She turned to the girl who was holding a bell, a sign, and a plastic jar of ones, and spat harshly, "–Can't you see that I'm on the phone?"

The girl's eyes widened and then proceeded to blink them multiple times.

Rude Girl huffed, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and brought her phone back at to ear. "Sorry, babe," She said as she gave the girl a dirty look before walking off.

* * *

 _Inside_ of the vet's office, a blonde woman, who had her hair bound up in a top-knot, looked down at her client. Those big, brown eyes - just begging for some love - and that blonde hair, so silky and smooth.

"Ah," the woman said as she ran her blue, Latex gloves through her client's blonde locks, "You're sure a sweetheart."

In response, the girl's client barked, making her chuckle.

"–Samantha?"

The girl looked over her shoulder as she stood up, "Yeah?"

"Um," the other woman said, leaning against the open door in the process, "Buddy's owners are here...if you, you know, want to give him back."

"Oh, I'd love to keep him." Sam said as she began to scratch behind Buddy's ears, "Would you like that, Buddy? Yeah?"

The lady raised an eyebrow as she watched Sam continue to play with dog; completely dodging the fact that the dog's owners have been waiting in the lobby for fifteen minutes. "Well," the woman said as she patted her clipboard against her chest, "I'd say your goodbyes. I told them that you were taking him outback to go potty–"

"Oh, okay–"

"–Three times."

Sam looked to the ground with a smile and nodded. She did this every time - it didn't matter what animal came in there. Sam couldn't help it, taking care of animals was her forte, stemming back to when she was three years old. "...Okay. Okay!" Sam sighed as she clicked Buddy's leash onto his collar, "Well, I'll see you in two weeks, so it's not that bad.."

When Sam went to open the small gate that led to the lobby, Buddy scratched at the gate happily. Sam looked down at him and spoke to him in an excited and high-pitched, voice, "Yeah? You ready to go home?" Right when she opened the gate, she dropped the leash and let Buddy run out to his owner.

"Buddy!" His owner said as she started to pet him.

Sam stood there, her hands clasped together as she rocked on her heels, "Sooo..same time in two weeks?"

"As always," the woman said with a smile as Buddy began to lick her face.

When the woman, Sam, and Buddy got to the door, Sam made sure to open it for them. As Buddy and his owner walked to the car, Sam stepped outside of the office to say her goodbyes. As Buddy's car drove away, Sam leaned against the stuccoed wall of her building and took a deep breath.

 _'All this running around,_

 _Bearing down on shoulders,_

 _I can hear an alarm,_

 _Must be a warning..'_

Sam took this time to get some fresh air. She closed her eyes, inhaled through her nose, and went to exhale, but felt something tickling her nose. When she opened her eyes, she saw that a butterfly had landed on her nose. How odd, considering how cold it was in Seattle right now. "Oh, hey there, little fella..." she said quietly. She put her finger to her nose and transferred the butterfly over. Sam tilted her head as she inspected the insect's beauty: bold, beautiful, and _red_. As the butterfly fluttered its wings, Sam smiled. "Yes, you're _very_ pretty," she said. With that, Sam raised her hand and watched as the butterfly glided off into the grey sky.

* * *

 _[A brunette girl, whose hair was medium length, held a flashlight. She had her arm curled upward; the butt of the flashlight nearly resting on her shoulder. Although you can't see her face, you can tell she's a little hesitant about entering the the opening her flashlight is shining into. The frame of the underground opening has wood planks that have broken, yell caution tape hanging from them]._

* * *

Sam gasped as she stumbled backward. Thankfully, she still stood in front the building, which helped her catch herself. The blonde veterinarian took a few, deep breathes before looking up at the sky. She felt so odd, yet she couldn't explain it.

* * *

"Yeah," Mike said as he laughed, obviously at the end of a conversation, "Thanks, again." As Mike walked backwards toward the door, he lifted a hand as a gesture and went to turn around.

"Yeah, no problem," said a man who leaned on his cash register, "I hope you can get the shit figured out with your truck. Smog checks are comin' up, bro."

Mike turned, a hand on the door's handle. "Hence my visit today," he laughed.

The man laughed too, "Alright, see you later."

"Take it easy," Mike said as he opened the door and walked outside; a small 'ding' sounding when he activated the door's censor.

 _Vvvzz._

Mike quickly slid his hand down into his pocket and withdrew his phone.

 _4:15pm (Jess): Soon! Very soon actually. I just talked to my parents. They bought me a ticket to fly in this weekend!_

"Whaaaaat," Mike said to himself. Was this real life?

 _4:16pm (Me): That's awesome! I can't wait to see you Jess. When do you fly in? I'll pick you up!_

 _4:16pm (Jess): 630pm on Saturday! :)))_

At this point, Mike started to walk and text at the same time.

 _4:17pm (Me): I'll see ya then! :)_

 _4:17pm (Jess): Oh & I may or may not have put a little something together for this occassion ;]_

 _4:17pm (Jess): Jess Hall sent you a photo attachment._

Mike raised an eyebrow, but didn't hesitate to press 'download'. It only took a second, but oh-em-gee if it wasn't Miss Hall herself in a black, lacy getup. Mike laughed as he brought the phone closer to his face, "Oh, hell yeah." As Mike was gawking at the picture of Jessica and, maybe, exchanging texts that varied between 'what are you going to do to me when you get here?' and 'you better be ready', he didn't realize he was walking into a construction zone. During the small moment where he looked up, he quickly ducked to avoid a 'Caution' sign. "Woah," he said as he looked back, "Jesus." That could have gone horrible, Mike imagined:

THUD.

CLOTHES LINED.

BACK.

Not today, oh, not today...

* * *

Jennifer, who happened to stop and get a coffee on her way back to work, groaned. "Construction...fantastic.."

* * *

And there they both were - walking down the street of Seattle...

Mike continued to walk down the street, phone in his hand, to the _left_ of a long, wooden construction board (the boards that shield the workers have when having to work near the street). Jennifer walked down the street and brought her coffee to her lips - she walked on the _right_ side of the construction board.

Less than a foot away from each other.

 _'I heard about a whirlwind that's coming 'round,_

 _It's gonna carry of all that isn't bound,_

 _And when it happens, when it happens,_

 _Let it happen, let it happen..'_

At the corner of the street, the board ended. Without even sharing a glance, or even taking notice to each other, Mike took a left and Jennifer took a right.

Sometimes what you're looking for is right under your nose.

* * *

In absolute darkness, he sits and cries - only managing to choke out wet screeches.

Blind, a lone, hungry.

 _'All this running around,_

 _I can't fight it much longer,_

 _Something's trying to get out,_

 _And it's never been closer..'_

With foggy, grey eyes he attempts look around. It looks the same everyday.

Black.

But, to him, he's not alone.

Long, sharp fingers, which had dried blood stuck under each nail, shook as they felt the crisp, charcoal; the burnt body that's dry and dead.

It's been 6 years; 6 years of _this_.

 _'If my ticker fails,_

 _Make up some other story,_

 _And if I never come back,_

 _Tell my mother I'm sorry.'_

A deep snarl escapes; saliva from hunger dripping to the dirt like a cobweb.

He tilts his head back as he screams.

The underground shakes.


	4. Research & Reunion

**A/N:** I just wanted to give everyone a heads up about the backstory, since my revising didn't save, unfortunately (things will be fixed by the time this is read). I know a lot of people write Until Dawn stories where there characters are from Los Angeles, CA; I'm assuming this was due to Emily's comment about Matt picking up his jacket on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. Other than that, there weren't any other clues to them living there. In my story, **the group is from Seattle, WA** (right below Canada; where Blackwood is). Let's just say Matt picked up his jacket in CA during a football camp (since they cut the school a deal - I've actually had to do this for my volleyball uniform) and Emily went with him to shop–uh, I mean, _support_ him, yeah. Also, I know Bob Washington is a movie director who works in Los Angeles, but that's for work; his home is back in Seattle (many celebrities do this). I know things have been moved around and I apologize. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a PM. Thanks!

* * *

 **Until Dusk**

Chapter Four: "Research & Reunion"

* * *

 _'You need to listen to me. I don't care if you believe me or not - doesn't matter, because you will. You need to go down to the mines._

 _...I've seen what's down there and I'd give anything to unsee it.'_

As Jennifer pushed open the doors to The Seattle Library, she swiftly looked over her shoulder before entering. As she walked into the lobby, what she read in regards to Samantha Parker's testimony, or more so interview, echoed repeatedly in her head. Was Sam referring to the Wendigo; the creature they claimed hunted them down? It all seemed frivolous; especially to the public - in all honesty, it was hard and almost impossible to believe, that's for sure - but, Jennifer couldn't shake the feeling of it being viable. They were on ancient, Indian grounds after all. However, Jennifer wanted, no, _needed_ to know more; she craved answers.

Jennifer walked like she was on a mission; staring directly forward as she took long strides. As she approached the front desk, her eyes shifted from left to right as he mouth remained buried in her winter scarf; she didn't want to be caught here on her lunch break, especially looking up what she intended to. The last thing Jennifer wanted to feel was obsessed, but there was no denying her curiosity.

Upon noticing someone approaching the desk, the woman situated there looked up with a smile. "Good afternoon, Miss. Is there something I can help you with today–"

"–Yes," Jennifer spat out as she tugged at her scarf, "Um, I'm looking for something about the, um..."

The woman raised her eyebrows as she waited for Jennifer to continue, obviously confused by her tension.

Jennifer lowered her voice, but tried her best to remain cheery and nonchalant, "The, uh...Wendigo?"

"–Ah," the woman smiled as she removed her glasses and set them on the desk's surface, "Like mythical beasts?" The woman seemed oddly happy, like a _mythical beast_ was all that it was: a bad guy in a fairy tale.

"Yeah, something like that," Jennifer exhaled with a false smile.

"Sure," the woman began as she pulled a pen from her unblemished up-do, "You're going to want to head down that aisle and go to the left; _folklore_ is in the back." After the librarian finished giving directions with her pen, she looked back to Jennifer and grinned.

"Right. Thanks," Jennifer said with a smile before heading further into the library. She continued to look around as she walked; observing everything about the place and how it was so eerily reticent and empty. Aside from a young man, who sat at a table with his laptop, no one else was there. As she walked further and further down the specified aisle, she swore it got darker and a dull ring; that made her feel numb, caused her to look over her shoulder a few times.

Then, something interesting caused her to stop dead in her tracks.

"Huh," she mumbled to herself as she tilted her head to look at the display that hung on the wall.

There was a glass frame of butterflies. They looked so alive; like if you tapped the glass they'd flutter within their permanent captivity. There was a blue one with black rimmed around the edges of its wings, and a white one with black patches, but the one that enticed her the most was the solid, brown one. It was so simple, yet so elegant looking. She had never seen one like that before.

Suddenly, the ringing became louder, which caused Jennifer to wince and hold her head. Completely confused by the source, Jennifer looked around, but something else caused her to look back to the display. Jennifer swore she could hear whispering; quiet enough to be inaudible, but loud enough to be known. With eyes squinted in disorientation, Jennifer slowly lifted her arm and opened her once clenched fist - her eyes still locked on the butterfly case. Jennifer continued to reach out until the tip of her pointer finger touched the cold glass.

* * *

 _[A brunette, short-haired man, whose face was covered in blood and dirt, began to choke on his own blood. A slim, pale, and elongated hand dug its way further into the man's throat - angry, high-pitched screeches accompanying the attack. As blood spewed down the man's chin, he gasped for his last breath before going limp]._

* * *

With a small gasp, Jennifer withdrew her hand and pulled it to her chest. It felt like something had pricked her finger; like a thorn or a needle.

"Shit," Jennifer quietly whined as she overturned her finger; fully expecting to see a dot of blood. Upon realizing there was no wound whatsoever, she blinked a few times; completely baffled. Jennifer quickly inspected her finger and even wiggled it - nothing; she was fine. "What?" Jennifer huffed as she looked back up the display.

There sat the single, brown butterfly.

Still feeling the pain from the prick, Jennifer put her finger in her mouth to soothe the pain. After eyeing the display suspiciously, with narrowed eyebrows, Jennifer walked away.

* * *

Jennifer's eyes shifted over the spines of multiple, 'Wendigo-related' books. As she bit the inside of her cheek, she finally decided on one and pulled it down from the shelf. Randomly flipping to an unspecified page, she rose an eyebrow at the picture the book provided: a thin body that had flesh falling off it, a head that resembled a demonic deer, and reindeer-like antlers. To sum it up, it looked like a demented Rudolph.

 **"Hello again, dear!"**

Jennifer jumped and backed up into the shelf behind her as a voice greeting her nearly gave her a heart attack. As she frantically looked up, she sighed when she saw a familiar face.

It was Susan; the _maybe-Mike's_ neighbor.

"Hi," Jennifer said with a nervous smile.

"–Hello to you," Susan beamed, "Do you need help finding anything?"

"Uh," Jennifer began as she looked to the name-tag on Susan's colorful blouse: LIBRARIAN: SUSAN, "No–nope! I've got everything I need right here!" Jennifer let out an exaggerated laugh, which was, unintentionally, faked horribly.

"Good!" Susan nodded.

"O-okay," Jennifer stuttered as she looked back down to her book; obviously trying to evade any further conversation. When things got awkwardly silent, and when it became apparent that Susan hadn't moved, Jennifer slowly looked back up. "Uh..." she chucked again, "Yes?"

Susan just continued to stand there with a grin; something obviously on her mind. "Oh, nothing. Oh, actually–!" Susan began as she placed a hand on Jennifer's shoulder, which caused Jennifer to look to her shoulder anxiously, "I did get in touch with your friend, Mike." This immediately caused Jennifer look back to her book, which made Susan choose to continue. "Yeah, yeah, we were talking about you!"

"Oh, yeah?" Jennifer asked as she quickly made up something to continue with, "I'm sure he had some great things to say about me."

Susan let out a hefty laugh, "No."

Taken by surprise, Jennifer quickly looked up to see that the old woman held a straight face with her eyebrows furrowed. Jennifer sighed, rolled her eyes, and flipped the book shut. "Okay, look, _maybe_ I wasn't invited–"

Susan rose an eyebrow, "–Clearly."

"– _But_ , I do know Mike, okay? I'm not an intruder." Jennifer tried to reason the best she could.

"Well, hun, if you weren't invited and you're on someone's property, I do believe that's intruding," Susan said harshly.

Jennifer sighed, "I was just...worried, okay? My friend, well he, he's just not going through a good time? I just went to take a peek; to make sure he was okay, _okay?_ " _Not the truth, but not a full-blown lie; on the right track. That is, if it is actually Mike. _

Susan let out a short chuckle as she looked away, "Well, that much is true."

"What?" Jennifer asked; completely dismissing her own set-up.

"That poor kid's a mess!" Susan exclaimed as she threw up her hands, "Probably couldn't even tell a turkey sandwich from a ham sandwich!–"

 **"SH!"** The woman from the desk sternly hissed.

"Oh, bite me, Helen!" Susan grumbled as she stared in the secretary's direction. After a small sigh, Susan turned back to Jennifer, "Anyway," she said as she pushed her white hair back; her golden jewelry clanking together in the process, "I've been looking out for him, but there's only so much a little, old woman can do."

Jennifer slowly nodded, "I understand." _No, not really, but still._

"But, uh, I'm sorry, darlin', but I've got some books that need to get back to their homes. Have fun reading about your, your, uh, _Winjados_ ," Susan said as she began to walk past Jennifer.

"Oh," Jennifer said as she moved to the side, "–yeah."

"–But, it was great to see you again on much," Susan laughed as she looked back momentarily, "–much better terms."

Jennifer smiled, "Yeah."

Susan then stopped and turned around, "Mike's lucky to have a friend like you, you know. I know what happened years ago - I haven't seen one person check up on him. I'm sure he really appreciates your selflessness." For the first time, a small, genuine grin showed on Jennifer's face. Susan smiled in response to Jennifer's grin, "I'd love to have you both over for dinner sometime. I make a mean enchilada," Susan finished with an even bigger smile.

Without even realizing it, Jennifer answered, "Of course."

Susan nodded Jennifer's way and then turned the corner.

Right when Susan wasn't visible anymore, Jennifer let out a deep exhale and practically collapsed against the bookshelf. Jennifer sighed as she ran her hands down her face - resting her head on the shelf after.

What the hell has she gotten herself into?

* * *

Jennifer sat at a table in the library, and she had to have been there for an hour. The information she was reading was so compelling and unreal; there's no wondering how she lost track of time.

 _Mines._

 _Experiments._

 _Camps._

 _Prophecies._

 _Cannibalism._

It was insane.

Jennifer was hunched over an array of open books; reading a page per minute, but that was until a loud slam on the table caused her to jump.

"Oh, god!" Jennifer gasped as she placed a hand over her heart and looked up.

Angela Dinton; a co-worker and friend of hers.

"Oh, hello," Angela chimed as she pulled out the chair in front of Jennifer and sat down, "Did I _scare_ you?"

Instead of answering, Jennifer rested her head in an open book and sighed. She had been startled enough today.

"Where have you been?" Angela asked as if work wasn't important to begin with.

"–What time is it?" Jennifer asked frantically as she sat up.

"Uh, two-thirty," Angela chuckled, "Don't worry, though, we're all off."

Jennifer sat back in her chair, "What do you mean we're off?"

"Uh, like, he let our department off early; said we were good for the day."

"–Oh."

"–But," Angela began as she eyed Jennifer, "Moore said you owe him a date."

Jennifer scoffed and put her forehead back on the open book's pages.

"Hm, what are you reading?" Angela asked curiously.

"It's nothing, I–" Jennifer sighed as she felt the book pulled from underneath her head; it concluding with Jennifer's head hitting the table with a dull thud.

Angela turned the book around and chuckled, "The Wendigo," she mocked in a spooky voice. "What has you all up to date on your scary legends?"

With her head still on the table, Jennifer responded, "It's for the article."

"Oh, that's right. You're in charge of the, _'oh, my god, I swear I didn't kill my friends, it was a monster'_ piece. Yeah, I was wondering why you were here–"

Jennifer bit her bottom lip and looked up, "–Yeah, actually, why are _you_ even here? You don't even read books," Jennifer asked as she rubbed one of her eyes.

"I came here for this beauty," Angela said as held up a book that read: _WHY MEN LOVE BITCHES._

Jennifer squinted her eyes as the book and then looked to her friend, "Why...men love...bitches? Why–?"

"–Oh, why you ask, I can tell you–!" Angela began as she flipped open the book.

"–No," Jennifer tiredly began, but she hung her head when Angela already started reading excerpts from the book.

" _–What is a bitch, you ask? Babe In Total Control of Herself, is the answer. 'Babe Rule #23: A man truly sees your worth when you aren't accessible,"_ Angela read as she looked to Jennifer with a wiggling brow.

Jennifer rose her eyebrows, "And you need a book to tell you that?"

"Hey," Angela interjected as she sat up, "I need all the help I can get. I've been having quite the situation with boy-toy back home and I _tried_ to text you, but you never answered."

Jennifer lifted her broken phone up off the table with a grin, "Phone is busted."

"Uh, get it fixed? Oh!" Angela said excitedly as she patted both of her hands on the table, "There's this really cute guy at the Verizon store down the street. He fixed a crack in my iPhone, right? I get home and guess what? He saved his number in my phone as I-Got-My-Verizon-You." Angela laughed, "Isn't that hilarious and clever?"

Jennifer shared a look that signaled that she wasn't following Angela's story. "That's kind of creepy and–oh, you know, actually–" Jennifer began as she bent down and dug through her purse. When she sat back up, she held a crinkled piece of paper. After opening it, Jennifer looked at the number that was written on it, in her handwriting: _Neeson Electronic Repairs._

Angela almost immediately grabbed the piece of paper from Jennifer and read it. "Neeson Electronic Repairs? Nope, I've never heard of them; kinda sketch, but maybe they're cheap. Here," Angela said as she handed Jennifer her phone, "Call 'em."

Jennifer grabbed the paper back from Angela and began dialing the number; then resting the phone against her ear as she listened to the connecting tone.

...

 _"Hello?"_ A male voice asked.

Not even taking notice to the fact that a man picked up this time, Jennifer responded, "Yeah? Hi, my phone's broken and I'm calling about it possibly getting fixed."

 _"Uh, yeah! Sure! What's wrong with it?"_ The voice asked happily - almost too happily. It sounded like this guy was happy to be getting business.

Jennifer chuckled, "Well, I dropped it and ever since then it won't turn on."

 _"Alright, yeah. Well, do you have the address? You can bring it down and I can take a look at it."_

Jennifer looked at the address on the paper, "Yeah, I do, that sounds great."

 _"Okay, cool. I'll see you soon, then. Bye."_

"Bye," Jennifer said as she withdrew the phone from her ear and ended the call. Jennifer slid Angela's phone back to her, grabbed her purse, and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Angela asked with a chuckle.

"Uh," Jennifer said as she pushed her chair in, "To get my phone fixed?"

"Right now?" Angela asked surprised. She watched as Jennifer tucked her scarf around her neck and started to walk away from the table.

"Yeah, why not?" Jennifer said as she looked over her shoulder, "The faster I get my phone fixed, the faster I can help you with your love life."

Angela laughed, "Yeah, okay, whatever!"

Once again, the secretary looked their way and shushed them, **"SHH!"**

Angela looked the secretary's way, "Oh, my god, fight me!"

Jennifer shook her head with a smile as she walked towards the exit.

* * *

As Jennifer pulled onto a suburban street, she started to get a little confused.

"Uh," Jennifer said to herself as she glanced down at the paper in her hand, "This can't be right." As Jennifer's car rolled to a stop, she looked at a house from her passenger-side window. After checking the numbers on the paper, she looked back up to the house. "Okay, I guess this is it," Jennifer said as she put her car in park and turned off the ignition. Angela was right: this was sketch; this was someone's house.

Jennifer looked at all the children's toys that were strewn about on the grass in the front yard and started to feel a little better. Mike's house, which was now properly labeled _thee, actual Mike Munroe's house_ , thanks to Susan, looked way worse. This house was nicely decorated; someone who lived here obviously had a Pinterest and this person, obviously, took care of their grass.

As Jennifer got to the door, she could make out the sound of a woman's voice and a younger child's voice from inside.

 _So, maybe this is the wrong house. Man, I'm on a roll..._

Jennifer took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. This time, she could actually hear the doorbell ring inside. Plus, a small-breed dog started barking and the child's voice got louder; the owners were aware of her arrival.

Jennifer found herself stiffening up and holding her breath as she heard the door unlock and open.

"Hello?" A woman asked. She seemed a bit hesitant and frazzled. As she opened the door more, Jennifer saw that she had a baby, who couldn't be more than nine months, on her hip and, maybe, a three-year-old leaning on the door frame next to her. Her amber, brown hair was tied up in a messy bun and holy shit, she looked so familiar.

"Hi," Jennifer said with a smile - of course, sharing a smile to the two kids with the woman. "I'm, uh, I'm here for my phone?"

The woman then seemed to loosen up a bit, "Oh..yeah!" The woman looked over her shoulder, "Babe!"

"Yeah?" A man asked; his voice echoing from deeper inside the house.

"The girl with the broken phone is here!" The woman continued.

"Kay, comin'!"

The woman looked back to Jennifer and found that she was just awkwardly staring at her.

Jennifer snapped out of it and began to stutter, "Uh, I'm sorry," she chuckled, "You just look _really_ familiar–"

"–I got it, Ash," A man said as he opened the front door a little more. The man looked to the woman with a smile; his black-rimmed glasses somewhat scrunching up on his face.

The sound of Jennifer's phone clashing against the cement caused the woman and man to look up to her quickly.

...

 _Oh, my god...no way..._

 _..._

The man looked to Jennifer in absolute shock - his blue eyes stared into hers as his mouth hung agape, "...Jen?"

Jennifer swallowed harshly, "...Chris."

* * *

 **A/N:** Just to let you know -  the characters in this story **CAN NOT** see totem predictions ; they'll only feel a jolt, get the chills, or get dizzy/nauseous. Only I as the writer, and you, as the reader, can see them (which is inside [these]). Thanks for reading! As always, a review is very much appreciated (keeps me motivated!).

 **A/N:** Also, if you'd like a visual of Susan, look up _Doris Roberts_. That's exactly who Susan is inspired by.


	5. You're Not Welcome

**A/N:** Sorry for taking forever!

* * *

 **Until Dusk**

Chapter Five: "You're Not Welcome"

* * *

It was boisterous: the sound of people either strolling happily, or hurriedly rushing, echoed among all the voices that engaged in various conversation. A man nearby held onto his wife tightly; burying his face into her shoulder as they swayed together. A young toddler, that donned a billowy tutu tugged on the man's green and beige, checkered pants, while he held onto the strap of large, green bag that was draped over his shoulder. Brown, curious eyes watched as the man broke the embrace with his eyes wife and looked down to his daughter. After removing his cap and squatting down, the man wiped a tear away with his knuckle before he picked up the little girl. Without even realizing it, the observer shared a sympathetic smile.

Soon; soon he'd be reuniting with someone that meant the world to him.

His eyes shifted to a pair of women who quickly walked towards the exit. They all wore dress suits - sharply ironed, black slacks with blazers. As they rolled their bags in unison, they spoke of business, which was audible as they passed by.

 _'We have about an hour before the conference; we'll have time to settle in,'_ one woman said, which was the only part of conversation the bystander heard.

Then, he watched as excited, taupe eyes peered over another passerby's shoulder. Once they caught sight of each other, smiles were exchanged.

"Oh, my god!" The owner of the grey-blue eyes exclaimed as she rushed over, practically letting her bag drop and slide against the glossy, airport floor.

Letting his smile slip into a cheeky grin, the once, lone bystander extended his arms and playfully bent his knees. "Come here!" He let out an exaggerated grunt as the girl giggled and dove into his arms - him following up with a content 'mhm' as he held her tightly.

"... _Mike_..." The girl hummed as she squeezed him tightly before letting go.

"M'lady," Mike said as he smirked and looked into teary eyes. Despite her tears, she appeared happy and, finally, free. Her blonde hair, that he distinctively remembered was braided _that night_ , fell loosely over her shoulders, while a few strands fell against the fair skin of her face.

 _She was beautiful. She was spunky and alive; just how he remembered her._

The girl chuckled and looked away as she wiped a tear with her jacket sleeve. She let out a happy sigh as she looked back to Mike, "I missed you so much," she almost whispered.

Mike gestured a single nod and spoke softly, "I missed you too, Jess."

Jessica smiled and bounced on the tips of her toes; shifting excitedly in place. "So, should we get out of here?"

Mike chuckled as he looked to the ground, "Well, I could think of a few places I'd rather us be." As he looked back up to her, he noticed that she had her head tilted to the side as she bit her bottom lip. Mike couldn't help but share a compassionate grin when he noticed a small patch of flesh on her lip that was a few shades lighter; a scar that had permanently marked her.

"Oh, really?" Jessica said seductively as she closed the already, small gap between them, "Well, then we better get going, right?" After she bopped Mike on the nose with her pointer finger, she backed up and giggled.

"Right," Mike said as he bent down and picked up Jessica's bag. After he stood up, he stretched his back, "After you."

Jessica interlaced her and Mike's free hand together and glanced his way, "Oh, such a gentleman."

"Always," Mike said as they walked towards the sliding, glass doors, "Your chariot awaits."

Jessica threw her head back and laughed, leaning into Mike and nudging his arm with hers as they walked, "Oh, shut up!"

 _It was like she never left; it was like nothing had changed._

* * *

Jennifer watched as Chris walked over and sat on the couch in front of her; them separated by a rectangular coffee table that was covered in broken crackers and a leaking, sippy cup. "You've got quite the set-up here," Jennifer said as she put the rim of a warm, coffee mug to her lips.

"–Yeah," Chris began, but Ashley quickly interrupted.

"–He's been trying to open his own shop; we even took out loans for it, but with _these two_ ," Ashley said as she looked to her and Chris' kids, "–we don't exactly have the funds."

The older child was a boy with strawberry-blonde hair and blue eyes. When the boy turned to look at his parents, Jennifer noticed a light patch of freckles under his eyes. He couldn't be more than five years old and his coy, but friendly nature, only confirmed the thought. The boy continued to watch television while kneeling on a pillow; comfortably situated in front of the coffee table.

The other child, which was obviously a girl from her get-up, sat on the ground in front of the television. Given the fact that she wobbled while she sat and that she carelessly chewed on the plastic of her bottle, she had to be around eight months or even younger. She wore a fuchsia headband, that sported a rather large bow, on top of her blonde head.

"But! _But_ , things are goin' good: I have consistent call-ins–I have a good client base, you know? Things will take off soon," Chris assured as he looked from Jennifer to Ashley.

Ashley looked down to Chris and began to run her fingers through his blonde faux-hawk, "Uh, huh–no, no!" Ashley said as she turned and looked to her youngest, who had successfully pulled off the lid of her bottle and was now dumping the contents onto the floor. Lightning fast, which Jennifer chalked up to a motherhood, Ashley was squatted down near her daughter. "No, no, Viv," Ashley sighed as she picked up the, now, empty bottle. The baby only looked up to her mother with bright, blue eyes and shared a happy coo as patted her hand in the milk puddle.

"–Hey," Chris said as he held his hands up in defense, "We've got a nice roof over our heads, we've got two, healthy children, and I have my own business; I ain't complaining."

Feeling that she hadn't been inviting into the conversation, Jennifer just pattered her fingers against the hot porcelain in her hand as she looked into blackness of her coffee.

" _Anyway_ ," Chris said as he clasped his hands together, "Your phone - lemme take a look at it–"

"–Oh," Jennifer said as she dug her hand into her jacket pocket, "–yeah."

When Chris was handed Jennifer's phone, he inspected it thoroughly; twisting his wrist to look at the device from all angles. He chuckled when he noticed the dent in the right, bottom corner - this was obviously from her phone's second spill at their front door. "Hey, if it wasn't broken before, it's broken now, right?"

Jennifer laughed as she shifted in her seat, "Yeah.."

"Well, I'll probably just...take the back off; take a look inside. It shouldn't take longer than ten minutes if you–I don't know–want to stick around?"

Jennifer's eyes glanced down at Chris' hands; momentarily getting sidetracked by his work, rather than his words. She watched him pop the back off of her phone and remove the SIM card, along with other parts that she didn't even know existed in her handheld contraption.

"Yeah, sure," Jennifer said as she smiled warmly, "You don't mind–"

Chris stood up from the couch, Jennifer's phone still in his hand. "You're fine. Let's go ahead 'n head over to the table, yeah? Better lighting over there," Chris said as he walked over, but ended up turning around and walking backwards for the remainder of the way, "And hey, maybe I can even teach you a thing or two?"

Jennifer followed closely, "Due to my luck with phones, that'd be great."

"–Here, let me just...move," Chris began as he started to quickly pick up drawings he had collected from his kids, "–all of this," he practically chimed. "Huh," he said merrily as he looked down at a piece of paper – a large, black butterfly, drawn on it messily, "Well, look at this," Chris said with a smile, but suddenly he felt an awful migraine coming on.

* * *

 _[The same short, brown-haired male from earlier exclaims loudly as a moving car speeds toward him. However, his scream is cut short when the vehicle plows over him, leaving his body motionless on the cold asphalt. Despite death taking him, his brown eyes remain open, while a stream of blood slithers down his already damaged and bloodied face; leaving a red streak between his nose and eye.]_

* * *

Chris dropped the drawing on the table and grasped his head, slightly caught off balance.

Confused at Chris' sudden pain, Jennifer stuttered, "Chris, uh, Chris? Are you okay–"

"–Chris," Ashley said as she quickly walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, "What's wrong?"

"–Uh," Chris began as he shook his hand, "It's nothing; nothing at all. Just got a little dizzy; no need to freak; false alarm."

"You sure?" Jennifer and Ashley practically asked in unison.

"Yeah!" Chris smiled as extended both of his arms outward, "Ta dah! I'm fine."

* * *

 _'There's going to be a storm. The clouds, the sky, the trees...they look so unhappy.'_

"...Jess?"

 _'God, what am I even doing here? I can feel it all coming back.'_

"Jess?"

 _'I feel sick.'_

 **"Jessica!"**

Abruptly coming back to reality, Jessica jumped slightly before turning to look at Mike, "–Hm?"

Mike chuckled, his pearly whites showing, as he looked to the road and then back to Jess, "You're quiet; it's weird." Normally, Jess was quite the chatterbox, but with every mile they drove, the quieter she got. For ten minutes, Mike had been looking over at her, wondering what she could be thinking about. "What's goin' on in that beautiful brain of yours?"

Jessica smiled, along with a content hum, "Oh, nothing! It's just crazy to be back!" She chuckled nervously as she looked out the passenger-side window, "Looks like there is going to be a storm," she said as she looked back over to Mike, "Seattle's first snowfall of the year, maybe?"

"Eh," Mike began as he lazily shrugged, "Probably not. We've been having a lot of storms–sometimes it would rain for days–but, still no snow...weird, huh?"

"Well," Jessica said as she patted her folded coat that sat in her lap, "It's definitely cold enough.."

"Says the girl coming from California," Mike joked as he looked to Jessica for a brief moment.

"Hey, it got plenty cold in Cali!" Jessica defended as she sent a smirk Mike's way.

"Yeah, whatever you say, girlfriend," Mike said as he spun the steering wheel right with one hand, his truck's ignition humming throughout the vehicle as he pressed on the gas.

After Mike turned around the corner, Jessica looked to him with her lips pursed. She didn't know why, but she felt so nervous talking to him, even though they had maintained a relationship for _seven_ years. Frankly, she was surprised they had lasted so long; Mike was a notorious player, though she doubted he remained faithful while she was away. He had never said anything and she never asked, knowing that if he was honest it would break her heart. However, at the same time, she wondered if Mike _could_ have a relationship with anyone else. Aside from his reputation, he had baggage, just like the rest of them; who would date a Blackwood survivor? Maybe for press, but would Mike do that? Jessica watched as Mike kept his round, caramel eyes on the road. It was nice seeing Mike _normal_ : his dark, brown hair gelled over and not contaminated in dirt and leaves; the stubble that graced his jaw visible, rather than covered in sweat and blood; his eyes bright with absolute joy, instead of swollen and blackened. Jessica smiled when Mike caught on; he turned to look at her and winked, thinking that she was, in his mind, totally checking him out.

Without even thinking, Jessica tried to continue conversing, "I like your truck," she said, "I kind of miss your BMW, though."

Jessica's boyfriend turned to look at her before patting his hand on her thigh, "Yeah, it was pretty nice. Unfortunately, mommy and daddy aren't helping out anymore."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Jessica asked with a sly smile.

"Yeah, when I was younger!" Mike laughed, "God, all I wanted to do was be _absolutely_ independent back then. Now, here I am."

"–and not the president of the United States," Jessica joked.

"Nah," Mike said as he grinned, "That was pretty big dream. Now, I'm broke, despite being middle-class, on my own, and working an _eight-to-ten_ job, sometimes all night, but–" Mike then rose his arm and flexed his bicep, "–I'm _still_ incredibly sexy."

Jessica laughed as she squeezed his bicep, " _Ooh._.."

"All for you, m'lady."

 **"–OH, MY GOD, MICHAEL, WATCH OUT!"** Jessica yelled as she looked forward, stiffening up and pointing directly in front of them.

Mike frantically looked to the road and slammed on his brakes before even focusing on what it could be; he trusted Jessica judgement. Both Jessica and Mike could feel the truck slide; the skidding of tires screeching when trying to grasp the wet asphalt. Mike pressed down on the brake harder, but it didn't help anything. As the truck continued to hydroplane, Jessica screamed as the truck swayed, and Mike gripped the wheel tightly.

The truck yanked them roughly as it came to a complete halt.

Jessica squealed when the abrupt stop tugged both her and Mike forward, the truck shaking gently due to the sudden stop. Jessica looked up, a few wild strands of her blonde hair concealing her face, as she took deep breaths, "Oh, my god..."

Unlike Jess, Mike seemed completely fine; as if this happened to him all the time and, shit, it probably did. "What is that?"

"–I don't know, Mike, can we just go?" Jessica asked while she bent over; picking up all of the lost contents from her purse and shoving them back inside.

To Mike, Jessica's voice was just background noise. After rolling down his window, Mike stuck his head and left shoulder outside and peered forward. There in the road laid a medium-sized, brown animal, whose fur was damp from the rain and blood. The poor thing..

"Oh, no," Jessica said sadly as she looked to Mike, "Did we hit it?"

"No," Mike said from outside the window, "..I-I don't think so."

As Mike slid back into the driver's seat and put his seatbelt back on, Jessica bathed in the guilt from possibly hitting someones' pet. "Oh, god, Michael, what if that was someones' pet? Like, a little girl's birthday present? And we killed it–oh, my god! It looks so little: like a small, little puppy!"

Before Jessica even finished saying the word _puppy_ , Mike was already unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door.

"Mike!" Jessica called out from inside the car, "Michael, stop! It's dead!" Jessica watched as Mike walked further down the road, a few yards away from the hood of his truck. Sure, Jessica had sympathy for animals, but the weather was getting really bad. Fog began to pour in, which only allowed the road to be partially visible; she could only see Mike. Jessica sighed as she watched Mike look down at the animal with his hands on his hips, "...Mike.."

Mike looked down at the animal on the ground, raising an eyebrow at it as he inspected it. "Hey, little guy," Mike whispered as he squatted down next to it. He immediately noticed the massive indent on the animal's torso, and winced, "I take it you didn't make it across the road, huh?"

"–Mike!" Jessica yelled from the passenger-side window, "Let's go!" When Mike didn't acknowledge her, Jessica huffed and rolled her eyes as she opened the car door. "Mike," Jessica said again as she sauntered towards her boyfriend and the dead animal, "I don't know what you–ew! Don't touch it!"

Mike, who had his hand extended towards the animal, stopped and looked to Jessica, "What? It's dead!"

"Exactly!" Jessica whispered harshly, "What? You think that just because it's dead it can't give you, like, rabies and stuff?"

"–Oh, and it's not a puppy," Mike said smugly as he looked to Jessica happily. Shit, if it was a puppy, or even a dog in general, Jessica would be watching Mike bury it nearby and, probably, be rubbing his back as he sobbed out a funeral speech.

 _'I know I didn't know you, *sniff* but, you were probably the best dog ever. I wanted a dog before, but do you know what my parents said? *Dramatic sniff* They said no because I let all my goldfish die in second grade. I hope, *sniff*, there are unlimited bones in Heaven. I love you, John Doe dog."_ Jessica rolled her eyes as she imagined Mike's moment with a dead dog; him hunched over and doing his ugly cry. Jessica placed her hand across her chest in relief, despite her smile from imagining Mike, and sighed, "Thank, god.."

"Yeah, it's just a possum–uh–well, it was a possum," Mike said as looked down at it, his hand still extended; about to touch the tail.

 **Touch** or **Leave it?**

"Hm," Mike softly trailed his middle finger down the possum's tail to see that there was no response. Mike looked to Jessica, "See–"

 _SQUEAK_. SQUEAK SQUEAK _SQUEAK._

"AHH!" Mike exclaimed as he fell to his butt and frantically scooted backwards; like the possum would reach out and grab him. "Ah, shit, fuck, what the fuck, seriously? How could that thing _still_ be alive?" Mike looked to Jessica with a chuckle; trying his hardest to pass his fear off as a joke.

Jessica just stood there, her arms limply at her sides.

Mike looked up at Jessica, concern in his expression, "Jess?"

No response: she just slowly started to take steps back, her eyes glued to the struggling possum.

"Jessica," Mike nervously chuckled, "It–it's just a possum, Jess."

"No," Jessica mumbled; her voice almost a whisper, as she continued to walk backwards. She continued to watch the possum squeak in agony: it's head weakly lifted of the ground and it's limbs thrashed, while it's tail wiggled, despite the large dent in its middle.

It all came back.

 _..._

 _"Damn," Mike said as he walked up to the deer's wounded body._

 _"It's horrible!" Jessica said as she looked back at Mike, absolute care in her voice._

 _Mike continued to look at the deer from behind Jessica, "I don't think it's going to make it."_

 _They looked at it for a moment._

 _..._

Mike sat up a bit more, "Jess!"

"–NO!" Jessica yelled, her face contorted into a cry as she walked back a little faster.

 _..._

 _"Uh," Mike began as he walked up to the deer and placed the flashlight on the ground near him, "Okay, bud."_

 _Jessica just watched from nearby, completely unsure._

 _"Hey.." Mike began, "I'm gonna make this quick for you, okay?"_

 _"Oh, no, no no..no.." Jessica mumbled._

 _"Okay," Mike said as he shifted, "Okay...jeez, how do I–"_

 _Jessica quickly turned around, "–I can't watch this!"_

 _"Okay," Mike said as he gripped the antlers, "Okay.."_

 _..._

"JESS, what's wrong? What's going on?"

Jessica, still in her daze, looked past Mike and spoke softly, "Watch out."

"What?" Mike huffed as he looked over his shoulder. Mike's sight fell, quickly, onto something very familiar. It had wheels, a bumper, and headlights, that, despite the weather, weren't on. Mike stiffened up and his eyes grew wide when the vehicle didn't stop; the driver must have thought that the horn would suffice. With a grunt, Mike rolled out of the way last minute, the car continuing to speed down the road until it was out of sight.

A heavily panting Mike scrambled to his feet, "Woah, jesus, ...fuck," he exhaled as he stumbled, the fear of almost being run over making him weak in the knees. Mike walked quickly over to Jessica and looked back down the road, "Did you see that? That asshat nearly ran me over!" When Jessica didn't say anything, he dramatically sighed and started to walk to his truck, "Fuck," he huffed, "Let's get the hell out of here."

When Mike walked past Jessica, she looked back down the road and started to flutter her eyes as rain started to fall.

* * *

" _So_ , Jen, what are you up nowadays?" Chris asked, only looking up at her for a second before looking back down at her phone, "I mean, it's been forever! We used to be so close, I don't know what happened!"

Jennifer shrugged, "Life I guess," she said with a chuckle.

Chris chuckled as well, "I hear you on that one. You're kinda short, though, life _really_ got you that bad?"

Jennifer looked up and realized that Chris had stopped fiddling with her phone and was looking right at her; basically waiting for a response, "Oh! God..no," she whined as she placed her elbows on the table and hid her face in her hands, "–I'm sorry, I'm just so tired. Just work, and this paper–"

"–Paper?" Chris inquired, which made Jennifer freeze up. Did she really want to tell him? Would that ruin anything?

"Uh," Jennifer said as she looked up, laying her arm flat on the table as she slunk into it, making her speech somewhat muffled, "Yeah...The Seattle News..."

Impressed, Chris looked up and smiled, "Woah, no shit? That's pretty rad!"

"–Yeah, well, it'd be _even more rad_ if I was getting paid good," Jennifer said as her eyes shifted back to Chris, "I'm interning–well, it's a _paid_ internship, but it doesn't feel like it."

"–Woah," Chris chimed as a piece of Jennifer's phone flung upwards and off of the table, "–Yeah?" Chris said as he leaned over to pick up the piece, momentarily out of eyesight, before sitting back up, "You don't have another job?"

"I did, but that was before my boss promised to pay me more if I spent more time at the office," Jennifer said before quoting her boss, _"'If you quit, I'll give you more hours and more cash.'_ It never happened, obviously."

"Weird," Chris began, "You must be really good, though, I mean, if you're boss wanted you at the office more."

Jennifer recollected her boss' perverse behavior and sarcastic huffed, "Ha, yeah, _I guess._ " It was hard to keep a conversation, due to everything going on around them. It came as no surprised that Chris and Ashley had adjusted to it; the loud shrieks of a baby and the constant 'mom, mom, mom,' from the other. Getting lost in all of it, Jennifer watched the television, which soothed her, surprisingly.

 _'People of Bikini Bottom, as your new manager I–'_

"– _So_ ," Chris began, eyeing Jennifer.

Jennifer quickly looked away from the television and sat up straight, "So what?"

"So? So what's your paper on?" Chris asked, both curious and excited for his old friend, "I bet it's legit! And hey, maybe you could give a small shout-out, maybe little ad for this lovely gentleman right here? Some press would be nice, _real_ nice."

Jennifer, who had her arms crossed on the table, looked away from Chris' eye contact and thought to herself.

 **Tell** or **Avoid?**

Jennifer cleared her throat and looked to Chris, her body language conveyed uncertainty, " _You._ "

It was quiet for a moment, but Chris finally scoffed in confusion, "..Me? Like, what do you mean?"

"–You know what I mean, Chris," Jennifer said quietly, but bluntly.

Silence.

Chris tried to keep his smile, but it faded with every stutter. "I-I, uh...I mean...what? ...Why? Why me?" Chris asked as he leaned back in his chair.

"Look, I didn't mean to intrude and if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but anything can help," Jennifer said quietly.

"–Yeah, but why me, though?"

Jennifer looked away and smiled, knowing that meeting up with Chris and Ashley was unrelated, but still a useful surprise. "I tried to find the others, but I wasn't given a lot to work with. Mike? He's the _only_ one whose folder I ended up with, and I don't know why, but I can't find him anywhere; I tried."

Chris scoffed as he crossed his arms, "What? You're telling me that the senior, vice prez, Jen Boothe, no longer has contact with the senior class prez?" Before Jennifer could answer, Chris leaned forward, "How did you end up with Mike's folder? Isn't that illegal–"

"–I don't know, Chris!" Jennifer spat quietly, "I don't know why, but I did. I just went to work and it was laying on my desk; I don't know who put it there."

"Did'a try Sam?"

"What?" Jennifer asked, slightly caught off guard, "No, I didn't try Sam, I haven't talked to her in forever."

"You haven't talked to me in forever."

"Yeah, but I, literally, just _found_ you. I came here for my phone, I didn't know it was you," Jennifer continued.

Silence.

At this point, Jennifer leaned over; her chest above her arms, as she talked to Chris. Meanwhile, Chris sat back in his chair with crossed arms, looking at the ground. It was obvious: Chris felt uncomfortable.

"Please, Chris..." Jennifer softly whispered.

"What, Jen? What do you want me to do? What could I _possibly_ do?" Chris asked.

"What happened, Chris? ...What happened to Josh and Matt?"

Chris looked back to the floor as the memories flooded in.

...

 _"Yeah! Now I gotcha; like we did with those little, army dudes."_

 _"You just got monked."_

 _"Woah, look, it's moving again!"_

 _"Ashley!"_

 _"...and there was blood everywhere! I killed him..."_

 _"None of this time was wasted!"_

 _"Ashley, I'm not going to let you die!"_

 _"Well, he's definitely off his meds."_

 _"I'm not your bro."_

 _"No? He can't be, we were just with him!"_

 _"He saved my life...and I watched him die."_

 _"Boom. Butterfly effect."_

 _..._

"Chris?"

Chris' sudden enthusiasm, granted it was hushed, startled Jennifer as she sat back. "Look," Chris whispered as checked to see that Ashley wasn't nearby, "I don't if there's much I can say that hasn't already been said, but I'll try."

Equally as quiet, Jennifer leaned in again, "So, the Wendigo? That's true?"

Chris nodded and then stared down at the table, "Josh–" Chris stopped when he watched Ashley walk into the living room and whispered in quieter, "Josh...he was..taken by that thing; the Wendigo, I don't know, and Matt, shit, we never found out what happened to him."

"You weren't there?" Jennifer asked surprised.

"What? No, no...I wasn't there," Chris stammered as he shifted in his seat.

Jennifer rose a brow, "After seven years, they still haven't found Matt?"

Chris shrugged, but not in a way that portrayed carelessness, "Nope."

"Geez," Jennifer said to herself, "Josh still gone too?"

Chris nodded his head slowly, "Yup."

"And this all happened in Blackwood–"

"-SH," Chris hushed, but the breaking of glass caused Jennifer to look up and for Chris to quickly look over his shoulder.

Ashley.

She stood there, her hands still cupped, despite her mug being only a pile of shattered glass at her feet. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was agape, a long with a quivering lip.

"Ash..." Chris consoled.

"Get out," Ashley said shakily.

"Ashley," Chris repeated as he stood up.

"I said get out!" Ashley exclaimed, all while keeping her eyes locked on Jennifer. Even though it was obvious who she was talking to, Jennifer was shocked to find that Ashley was truly yelling at her.

Jennifer, without saying a word, slowly stood up from the table and watched as Ashley shook. She couldn't tell if it was because Ashley was just really angry or if the redhead was scared by her own voice. Jennifer had never heard Ashley yell, ever.

As Jennifer watched from a few feet away, Chris attempted to calm Ashley; placing his hands firmly on her upper arms. "Ash, listen to me, we're fine!"

"–No, Chris," Ashley sobbed, looking up at him in a heavy cry, "We _were_ fine, now you're getting involved with it all over again! You _promised_ ; you promised we'd _NEVER_ talk about it! We had kids now! We're happy! You said we'd start a new life together!"

"Mommy?" The little boy asked, now coming into the kitchen upon hearing his mother's cries.

Still holding onto Ashley, Chris looked down at his son, "Not now, Cody. I'll be in there in a sec, go watch TV okay, bud?"

Jennifer walked closer to the couple and extended a hand to rest it on Ashley's shoulder, "..Ashley, I'm sorry–"

"–No, get away from me! Get away!" Ashley scolded as she swat Jennifer away.

Chris looked to Jennifer, "I'm sorry, Jen, but I think it's best if you leave...okay?"

Jennifer quickly withdrew her hand and looked to Chris, truly sick to her stomach from Chris' request. She didn't mean for any of this to happen... She looked to Ashley and then to Chris, "Okay, I'm sorry–"

"–Just get out! Get out of my house!" Ashley shrieked, her voicing croaking at the back of throat.

* * *

They had been parked for five minutes, outside of Jessica's house, but Jessica didn't move or even speak a word. As if she sat alone, Jessica continued to stare out the window, just like she had done the whole remainder of the ride home.

Mike continued to look at her, confused and curious. "Hey, Jess, we're here," Mike said as he turned off the ignition. Upon seeing her motionless, Mike sighed, "Look, I'm sorry about what happened earlier, even though I have no idea what happened." He tried to make light of the situation; chuckling at the end of his comment in an attempt to ease the tension.

Nothing.

"Jess?" Mike asked, a bit concerned. Truly, he had no idea why Jessica snapped.

Nothing.

"Jessica?" He chimed. Mike slowly extended a hand over to the dazed Jessica, gently placing a hand on her thigh.

As if the touch scalded her, Jessica jumped and screamed, "Oh, my god!" She turned to look at Mike as she pressed her back up against the car door. "Why would you do that?"

Now _very_ confused, Mike widened his eyes as he pulled back his hand. "Damn, Jess..."

"Its just–," Jessica began as she sighed, "–you can't just scare people like that, Michael!"

"Uh," Mike began, but he figured he'd rather not argue, "Okay, okay," he sighed, "My bad."

Jessica just continued to look at Mike, her breaths shaky and her chest heaving. She _truly_ was scared, but why? Jessica shared an odd look; a look of a stranger; like Mike was of no significance to her.

" _Alright_ ," Mike said as he looked forward and patted his hand on the steering wheel, "I'll get your bag; you just get inside, okay?"

Jessica only nodded before opening the door and hopping out.

When Jessica wasn't in sight, Mike let out a drawn out sigh as he put his forehead against the steering wheel. He didn't know what was up with Jessica's outburst – he didn't even grab her; he just placed his hand on her leg; just like he did earlier. He used to do that all the time and she never batted an eye. _Odd._ After taking a deep breath, Mike opened the car door and got out – slamming the door behind him. He walked to the back of the truck and noticed that Jessica was just standing there in the rain, her hood concealing her face as she held herself. "Jess, what are you doing? It's pouring out, get inside. I said I got your bag."

"Right," Jessica said as her eyes shifted away, "Okay." Without saying another word, she turned around and walked towards the house.

Mike dropped the door to the bed of his truck and reached over it with a grunt. "Gotcha," He said as he grabbed the handle of Jessica's bag and slid it closer to him. He flipped it around when he noticed something that his eye.

A keychain.

A keychain of a yellow butterfly.

Mike held the keychain with pointer finger and thumb as he inspected it, "Kinda cool."

* * *

 _[A girl with medium-length, brown hair looks to a bag on the floor and reaches for it – it appears to be a purse of some short. Also, it looks as if she's underground.]_

* * *

Mike hiccuped before a throaty belch escaped his lips. He felt a little nauseous, but that was probably from having Taco King for lunch. _Oh, well._

 **"Jessica!"**

Mike quickly looked over, his hand still grasped onto Jessica's bag, and saw both of Jessica's parents run outside.

"Oh, my god, Jessica! Are you okay?" Her mother asked, gently caressing Jessica's face.

"Yes, I'm fine–"

"Where were you?" Her father asked sternly, not even taking any notice to Mike.

"Jessica," her mother began, "We went to pick you up from the airport and you weren't there! We were so worried!"

"Really, I'm fine," Jessica said as she looked over her shoulder, "Mike brought me home."

Both of her parents looked to Mike, who casually waved with a smile.

"A text, a call, or anything, would have been nice," Jessica's father said.

"We called! You didn't answer! We thought something horrible happened to you! We thought you got lost!" Her mother interjected.

 _'Got lost?'_ Mike thought to himself, _'She's only lived here for sixteen years.'_

"No, really," Jessica said as she lowered her mother's hand, "I'm okay."

"Alright, well come inside. I picked up your room and washed your sheets; everything's ready for you," Jessica's mother assured.

As Jessica followed her mother inside, Mike walked up to the front door with her bag. "Oh," he said as he was stopped by Jessica's father, "I was just gonna–"

"–I can take it from here, thank you," Mr. Hall said as extended an arm to take it.

"Uh," Mike said as he handed Jessica's bag to her dad, his slow handoff from confusion, "Yeah, okay."

"Well," Jessica's father said as he looked to Mike, "Thank you for bringing my daughter home," he nodded.

"Yeah, always," Mike said with a smile. He never failed to bring Jessica home on time before, why would he start now?

"We're, uh, going to go visit; make sure she's comfortable," Mr. Hall said.

"Kay," Mike said, going to walk inside, but he was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. He quickly looked to Mr. Hall, baffled.

"Not you," Mr. Hall said, "Family only." He watched as Mike opened his mouth, ready to exclaim how he was _family_ by now, but Mr. Hall quickly interrupted Mike's justification. "...You're not family, Mike." He said it sadly, as if it pained him to say it.

There was a moment of silence and realization on Mike's end. Taken aback, Mike slowly stepped back onto the porch with a sigh, "Alright, ...alright."

"Okay," Mr. Hall said with a false grin, "Have a good night, Munroe." As he began to close the door, Mike's words caused him to stop.

"–When will I get to see her?" Mike asked, his hands buried in his jean pockets.

Confused as to why Mike didn't understand, Mr. Hall glared in his direction, "She's not here to visit, you know that, right?" When Mike stayed in silence, Mr. Hall continued, "She's not well, Michael. She's here to be around family; people who can help her."

"Wait," Mike said, "So...she hasn't recovered? Is it worse?"

"Good night, Mike," Mr. Hall said as he closed the door, completely dismissing Mike's question.

With that, Mike was left on the porch. He kept his hands in his pockets and his eyes glued to the door, hoping it was a joke and that Jessica's dad would open it with a, 'Gotcha! Come on in!', but he never did. Why? He continued to stand there, letting the harsh rain drizzle down on to him. Mike stiffened his jaw as he looked away from the door; his anger setting in. Scared he'd start banging on the door, demanding to be let in, Mike walked down the small set of stairs and walked back to his truck.

* * *

"Jen!"

Jennifer walked down the driveway quickly, completely dismissing the voice she knew belonged to Chris. She was utterly embarrassed, to say the least. The rain poured down hard, which she heard patter against the hood of her coat – all she wanted to do was get to her car.

"Jen!" Chris called out again, now making his way down the driveway. "Jen!"

Jennifer whipped around, slightly agitated, but more so at herself, "What, Chris?"

Chris stopped directly in front of her, "Hey, I'm sorry about Ashley, she's just..." Chris trailed off, looking down the road of their neighborhood as he did.

"–Traumatized?" Jennifer said, "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know – I _don't_ know what happened! I didn't mean to the put salt in the wound, I just figured I'd get answers."

"–Answers for your paper?" Chris asked he looked to Jennifer, droplets of water hugging the clear of his glasses, "...or something else?"

For a moment, there was only the sound or rainfall and thunder crackling in the distance.

"I want to know," Jennifer said softly, "I want _everyone_ to know the truth."

Chris shrugged, "...nobody believed us, Jen–"

" _I want to know the truth_ , I want to know _why_ my friends are scared; what nearly costed everyone their lives," Jennifer continued, "I will make everyone believe, I promise." Right as she was about to continue, she looked down and noticed that Chris was handing her a small, now damp, piece of paper.

"It's _my_ number," Chris said as he watched Jennifer take the paper, "..I..I want to help."

Jennifer ran her finger over the paper and looked to Chris, "What about Ashley?"

"I think it's best that she doesn't know," Chris said with a deep breath. "I want people to know the truth; to _believe_ the truth."

Jennifer shared a smile before turning around and walking to her car. Now, she walked confidently: she had a purpose.

As Jennifer drove away, Chris watched her car drive through the rain until her taillights weren't visible. He small grin spread across his face, knowing that someone, other than the other survivors, believed him. Chris looked up to the grey sky, rain water bouncing off of his glasses.

Chris spoke quietly, "Don't worry, Josh, everyone will know soon, bud. Just wait."

* * *

 **A/N:** Yeah, I know this chapter was totem heavy, but it called for it. Are you ready? Shit's gonna start getting real, guys. Also, you guys will be able to decide the choices (or some of them) from here on out. Thankfully, I'll be providing the totems, as always, so you won't be missing totems on accident (totes me in UD). Hope you enjoyed and, as always, a review is very much appreciated!

 **Leyshla Gisel:** Awesome, me too! Lol. I have an idea of what I want to do, but so far a lot of it has been improvised. Meh, perhaps? Perhaps not? I guess we'll see. *still improvising*

 **EliMustang:** Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it!

 **IEatBooksForTea:** Thanks so much! You're comment literally made my day, no, week! You're right about Ashley; she's kind of a spazz, but I love her, lol. I, honestly, love Chris  & Ash together, though I don't really see them paired with anyone else. I mean, other than Josh & Chris, but this story doesn't encompass #climbingclass, haha! Maybe, _maybe_ if you squint _really_ hard. Oh, and thanks for reminding me! I forgot to include a prediction for when she saw the danger butterfly. Doh! I'm glad you're enjoying my story!

 **Telemachus Prime:** Thank you! From the beginning, I felt that I needed to include totems. I'm excited to let some of you, the readers, chose from time to time! I'm glad I'm keeping you intrigued, just as much as your story intrigues me! *whispers* _'new chapter of Gods Until Dawn would be uhmazing._ ' :D

 **J. Devereaux:** Thanks so much! :D I'm always unsure if my story is interesting or not, honestly, lol. It has taken awhile for it to _truly_ get started, so I felt that it got boring, but thanks for telling me otherwise! Gah, *huge blush* thank you! I'm super unsure of my writing sometimes, so thanks!


	6. She's Not Okay

**A/N:** My sincere apologies for taking so long to update! Like I mentioned before, I was in the process of moving. I took a plane to visit my parents and I wanted to spend as much time with my family as I could before starting my fifteen-hour drive to my new home. Now, I am here! I'm in the process of building my first home, so still a little busy, lol, along with my mommy/wife duties I must uphold. Thank you for waiting! Also, I was nominated for 'Best OC Story' for the 2015 Until Dawn Awards. Thank you to everyone for the support!

 **Attention Readers!** – Please read this, for this is fairly important. The overall introduction for my story is over; things are _finally_ (I'm sorry!) going to pick up. **Now, in certain scenarios, you guys are going to be picking the characters' decisions.** You will be not be left clueless about them, however. _There will be clues when it's comes to response choices: they can come in a form of a totem, an actual clue, or dialogue._ (Ex: Chris explains how he's allergic to peanuts in a chapter; therefore you shouldn't offer him a PB &J sandwich in a later chapter. This, crazy enough, could lower stats, for you that means you weren't listening to him in the previous chapter). _You won't be responsible for every decision; if there is a '(y/c)' next to the decision, it's all on you._

 **If you can keep the _crucial_ characters alive, I will write a BONUS chapter after the story is complete. **

* * *

Until Dusk

Chapter 6: "She's Not Okay"

* * *

 _Mike touched the possum; the possum scared Mike into oncoming traffic; Mike was almost hit_

 _Mike touched the possum; the struggling possum triggered bad memories for Jess_

 _Jen told Chris the truth; Ashley overheard; Ashley kicked Jen out_

 _Jen told Chris the truth; Chris agreed to help_

* * *

The echoes of classical, Christmas music, Frank Sinatra to specify, and silverware clanking against porcelain harmonized throughout the house. Despite it being the first dinner that the Halls' had with their daughter in years, it remained quiet. Usually, Mrs. Hall would sit opposite to her husband at the table, but decided that sitting next to her daughter was most appropriate tonight. Jessica's mother found herself constantly gawking; her eyes shifted between her husband and her daughter often; awaiting a overdue conversation. While Mrs. Hall glanced at Jessica's untouched plate, Mr. Hall cleared his throat for the sixth time.

...

 _'Have yourself a merry, little Christmas,_

 _Let your heart be light,_

 _From now on, our troubles will be out of sight,'_

 _..._

Mrs. Hall cleared her throat as she patted the edge of her mouth with a napkin, "Jessica, you should e–"

"–It's a little early for Christmas music, mom," Jessica interrupted, not even taking her eyes off of her plate. She knew both of her parents nearly dropped their forks when she spoke, so she followed her comment with a low chuckle, "It's barely November." Jessica continued to push her peas away from her pork tenderloin, only to fork the vegetables back to their original spot on her plate. Hunger was very evident, but she wasn't eating.

"You know your mother," Mr. Hall said as he eyed his glass of wine, "Christmas starts early in this household."

"Plus," Mrs. Hall began, "You used to love my Christmas music. When you and Daniel were younger–"

"–How's Daniel?" Jessica interjected, obviously not interested in her mother's recollection. Whether it was because she was genuinely uninterested or if it was because her mother shared the story every year, she didn't know. This time, however, Jessica glanced up at her mother as she spoke.

"Uh," Jessica's mother chimed, very much distracted by her daughter's eye contact. Mr. Hall, who babied a spoon of peas and rice in his hand, looked to his wife as he chewed his previous bite casually.

Jessica continued to eye her dazed mother, "Daniel, mom."

Once again, Mr. Hall cleared his throat as he watched himself cut off a piece of his pork, "Daniel, Denise; she's asking about Daniel," he practically mumbled.

"Oh!" Mrs. Hall exclaimed, "He's good! He's studying hard – he's well into his sophomore year of college now. I barely see the kid, but he's supposed to come back home for Christmas this year. It would be great to have both of babies home this year," she finished as she looked to Jessica and smiled.

"–And football!" Mr. Hall said bluntly, "He's playing football." He smiled happily; obviously overjoyed by his son's college experience. "You know," he began as he leaned forward, "I think your brother is going to be in the NFL."

"–Oh, Pete!" Denise said as she dropped her napkin onto her finished plate, "I don't know about that!" she laughed.

"–No, I'm serious! You should see some of his snaps! I clocked it once – do you know how fast it was?" Mr. Hall asked. He, then, died down into a gloating whisper, "This thing was pushing forty-five miles per–"

"–Isn't he third string?" Jessica asked, causing her father to shut up completely, "He's a snapper, right? So, like, he only gives the ball to someone else and that's it? I mean, if they even put him in, right?" Jessica watched her father's proud expression fade into a hybrid of disbelief and annoyance before looking back down at her plate.

After the awkward altercation, it ceased to silverware clinks and holiday music.

While Jessica poked at her food and Mr. Hall continued to eat, Denise watched her family in silence.

...

 _'Have yourself a merry, little Christmas,_

 _Make the Yuletide gay,_

 _From now on, our troubles will be miles away,'_

 _..._

"You know, I think you are burdened by regret," Mr. Hall challenged – his comment a quiet attack.

"–Pete!" Mrs. Hall exclaimed, completely shocked by her husband's behavior.

"–What do you mean?" Jessica rushed, her voice a background to her mother's defense.

"No," Mr. Hall pressed as he looked to his wife – his silverware crashing roughly onto his plate, "Jessica is just jealous of her brother!" He continued as he gesture an arm over to his daughter, "She's starting to regret her choices!" Mr. Hall, then, looked to his daughter and pointed to her, "You could have been a great cheerleader–shit–you could be cheering on the sidelines for your brother right now!"

"–I didn't want to be a cheerleader," Jessica defended.

Mr. Hall slammed a flat hand on the table, causing all of the dishes and his family to shake, "–But you insist on tearing your brother down because he's at where you want to be!"

"Pete," Denise chimed as she placed a hand on Mr. Hall's shoulder.

"No! She needs to hear this!" Mr. Hall's harsh gaze went from his wife back to his daughter, "You wanted to be a cheerleader–"

"A model!" Jessica spat back sternly.

"Yeah, well, guess what?" Mr. Hall exclaimed; his voice boisterous and angered, "You would have been a damn-good model, but you screwed that up! Instead of pursuing _anything_ , you'd rather fart around with your loser friends – and what good came from that? Now your body is scarred with stitches that could have been avoided!"

"–PETE!"

"–You lost that chance!" Mr. Hall finished, his voice shaky from all of the intensity.

Mrs. Hall looked to her husband, who looked to her in almost-apology, and then looked to Jessica. "Honey," she said softly, "Your father didn't mean that – what happened wasn't your fault."

Jessica sniffed, despite not wanting to show her parents how much her father's words hurt her, and bit the side of her lip. After a rather large gulp, Jessica stood up from her seat. "I'd like to be excused," Jessica said as she glanced over to her mother. Her eyes were wet with betrayal, but her face showed absolutely nothing.

"Yes," Denise said as she smiled with a nod, "Of course, honey." She spoke softly and with understanding.

Jessica said nothing; she turned and walked away from the table quickly; like she was fighting back her emotions. She ran up the stairs, while her hand slid against the wood of the banister. There was no hiding it anymore; the loud stomps of her escape couldn't have been more obvious.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Hall looked to the stairs silently. After they heard the slam of a door, Mrs. Hall looked to her husband sadly.

Jessica fell lazily onto her childhood bed. Quite surprised that she didn't break down, or feel like breaking down, Jessica took a deep breath. After she rolled her head back, she looked at the headboard of her bed – oak wood, painted white, with a translucent, cream canopy that swallowed her upper half. Jessica also noticed that her glittery butterflies were still attached to the canopy material; the butterflies she begged her mom to get from one the Pottery Barn catalogues. Her father had put them onto her canopy on her birthday.

She reached out and took one of the small, decorative butterflies off of her canopy. A _black_ butterfly with silver glitter.

* * *

 _[A woman with shoulder-length, black hair, is sitting on the ground, facing a shattered window. Although she is sitting, she is not relaxed. The woman is wrapped in a white, silk robe that reaches her knees, but it is covered in blood. She is frantically scooting back, but finds it difficult from her injuries. The black-haired woman is surrounded by pieces of broken glass – some of it sticking out of her flesh, while some cracks underneath her as she moves]._

* * *

Jessica groaned as she felt a sharp pain shoot through her head. Her vision was blurred and her blinks became longer, until everything was black. As Jessica fell asleep, her arm dropped over the side of her bed. Her fingers slowly became limp and the butterfly fell to the floor.

However, it was hard to get comfortable. Even though Jessica slept on a queen-sized bed, that donned sheets with a high thread count, she felt cold. With a sleepy groan, Jessica turned onto her right side; expecting better comfort. After becoming slightly agitated, Jessica turned onto her back. Finally, she was comfortable, but, unfortunately, still cold.

Drip.

Jessica felt a drop of liquid grace her right cheek. In response, she followed up with another groan.

Drip.

A bit annoyed, Jessica scrunched up her nose and mumbled, "Stop."

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Oh, my god," Jessica whined quietly. With her eyes still closed, Jessica brought a hand up to her face to wipe whatever it was off of her face. After she ran two fingers down her cheek, she held them in within eyesight. Jessica fluttered her eyes open, but her fingertips caused her eyes to widened.

Jessica slowly sat up, her eyes still on her fingers.

Blood. There was _no_ mistaking it.

Suddenly, another droplet fell onto her face, the angle causing it to streak over her eye. The abruptness made Jessica's eye blink repeatedly due to reflex, but the noise that followed shortly after froze her.

It was a quiet, throaty gargle, followed by a hiss.

Slowly, Jessica began to look up to the ceiling, her fingers still in front of her face.

Her eyebrows crinkled up, her eyes widened, and her mouth grew agape as she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

There _it_ was.

It hung from all fours on the ceiling. The moonlight reflected in its murky, clouded eyes as it looked down at her. Its long limbs, both arms and legs, were sprawled above her like a spider in its web. It showed its rotten, jagged teeth as it opened its mouth, letting out a high-pitched shriek while blood continued to pour down at her.

Continuing to scream in terror while she kicked back her bedsheets, Jessica frantically went to run.

She couldn't.

Stuck in a laying position, Jessica lifted her head and looked down to her feet. Not only was she not in her bedroom, but she only wore her undergarments. Jessica began to hyperventilate as she stared at her bruised and bloody legs, knowing _where_ she was. Jessica looked to her arm, that rested on dirty, rusted steel and tried to lift it. "No, no!" she cried, "This isn't happening! No!"

Another alarming screeched sounded from above her, but it echoed. Jessica frantically looked up to see a small square of light and a head that peered down on her. "PLEASE!" Jessica begged, "I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE! MIKE! PLEASE!"

"Jessica! I'm coming!"

"MIKE!"

"JESSICA!"

"MIKE, PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE!"

"No, Jessica, no!"

"NO, MIKE! I'M ALIVE – DON'T LEAVE ME, PLEASE! I'M RIGHT HERE!"

"Jessica!"

"–Please!"

"JESSICA!"

"HELP, PLEASE, HELP ME!"

"HONEY!"

"JESSICA!"

Jessica opened her eyes.

Jessica's mother had her arms wrapped around, holding her closely as she swayed slowly. "Jessica," Mrs. Hall began, "We're right here, honey, you're okay."

Taupe eyes peered over her mother's shoulder to see her father who, despite earlier, stood still with a look of worry. In his hand, he held a rifle – if only that work.

Denise repeated, "You're okay now–"

"–No!" Jessica shouted as she backed away from her mother, only to have her mother grab her by her upper arms, "It's here! It's here! It's here to get me! IT'S IN MY ROOM–"

"Shh," Mrs. Hall soothed.

"–NO, MOM! IT'S HERE! IT'S GOING TO KILL ME–" Jessica persisted, while sobbing.

"–What's here to kill you, baby? Please, tell me!" Mrs. Hall held onto her daughter tightly, despite her daughter trying to frantically pull away.

Jessica stopped struggling and looked at her mom with red, glistening eyes. "...The monster, mom...it took me again–it, it...took me to the elevator again...it was above me, looking at me! There was blood dripping all over me!" Jessica that rubbed her fingers over the fresh blood on her face, "Look!"

Denise looked at Jessica's fingertips and then at her directly, "Baby, no.." she sighed.

"Just look!"

"Jessica, there's nothing there!"

Jessica withdrew her hand and looked to her fingers.

They were bare.

Jessica's expression darkened; her eyes in a daze and her face emotionless. With slight anger, Jessica stared into her mother's eyes. "You don't believe me..." Jessica, then, looked to her father, who avoided her gaze. "Neither of you do," she said as she backed away. As she continued to take steps back, she scoffed in disbelief, "I can't believe you guys."

As Jessica's mother tried to calm her, Mr. Hall walked into Jessica's room. Rifle still in hand, but not raised, he looked around the room. Then, he looked to the ceiling.

The shadow from the tree branches outside were mirrored on Jessica's ceiling, along with a line dark line above her bed. Mr. Hall walked to Jessica's bed and looked down at her sheets, where a patch of moisture sat fresh. When another droplet joined the patch, Mr. Hall looked back up at the ceiling just in time to see another water drop descend.

There was leak.

Mr. Hall's mouth curved downward into a sympathetic frown as he heard, _'You have to believe me!'_ shouted from the doorway.

* * *

 **– TWO WEEKS LATER –**

 _'Well,' a woman with a black pixie-cut began as she sat on the couch, 'I think you should apologize.'_

Jennifer sat far up on her bed, her back against the headboard, while she stuck her hand in a bag of Doritos. Her eyes were glued to the TV screen, which made her next handful of chips almost miss her mouth.

 _'For what?' a girl with long, black hair asked, 'Kim is be a drama queen, as usual.'_

After poking her fingers inside the chip bag, Jennifer noticed that there were only a few chips left; she almost ate the whole bag in one sitting! Jen's eyes shifted from the screen and looked into the bag, only to groan at her appetite and set the chip bag next to her.

...

 _'C'mon, be the bigger person, Kourtney,' the short-haired woman said._

 _'–I always am! Maybe Kim should apologize,' the other woman said._

 _Then, awkward camera shots of the women staring at each other ensued._

 _Dramatic music also played._

 _'Well, Kardashians always make up, so,' the older woman said as she stood up, '–whatever.'_

 _..._

"Oh, muh goud!" Jen said, her mouth full of chips distorting her speech. As she raised the television remote, she chuckled under her breath, "So stupid." Jen flipped to another channel, where a MC logo took up the screen.

...

 _'Previously, on Master Chief:'_

 _An angry Gordon Ramsey charged across the kitchen, 'What the *bleep* do you think you're doing?'_

 _Ramsey pointed down at breast of chicken, 'Do you see this? It's *bleep* raw!'_

 _He, then, flips the tray onto the floor, which is followed by suspenseful music...as always._

 _..._

Jennifer's eyes widened, "Holy, shit," she chuckled. After repositioning herself, and watching a contestant glaze a ham, Jennifer eyed her bag of chips. "No," Jennifer said to herself as she closed her eyes.

...

' _This, here, is my honey-glazed ham. I seared the tops for the crunch and added brown sugar for sweetness.'_

 _'My side is sliced pineapple: made with Peruvian pepper, teriyaki, garlic, and red-pepper flakes.'_

...

Without taking her eyes off of the TV, Jen quickly reached over and grabbed the bag of chips. This was too much!

Suddenly, Jennifer's phone rang.

Jennifer looked down at her phone, which sat next to her left leg, and found herself looking back and forth between the TV and her cell. Peering back down at her phone, she saw the name _Chris_. Jennifer want to pick up her phone, but noticed her fingers were sprinkled orange from the chips.

"Shit," she mumbled as she looked around. Finding no napkin or towel, Jennifer quickly rubbed her hands on her sweatpants and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" she asked.

 _'Hey, Jen, did'a get my text?'_ Chris asked, seemingly cheerful.

"Uh," Jennifer withdrew the phone and looked at the screen: 'new text message' sat as a notification at the top of her phone. Jennifer put the phone back to her ear. "Uh, yeah, I did! I haven't read it yet, why? What's going on?"

 _'I just thought it was something you should see,'_ Chris said smugly, _'Call me back after you read it.'_

"Oh, okay," Jennifer said as she quietly sucked the leftover, nacho-cheesy-ness, from her fingers, "I'll call you back!"

 _'See ya!'_ Chris said.

Click.

Once against, Jennifer repositioned herself against her headboard – which, of course, – meant stuffing all of her lace, accent pillows behind her head. Jennifer opened her text messages and noticed that Chris didn't only send her a text, but he also sent her a link.

 _[7:32am; Chris] - I thought you should see this._

 _[7:32am; Chris] - Chris sent you a link._

 _[7:33am; Chris] - Crazy timing, right?_

Jennifer pressed her thumb on the copied HTML and watched as the article slowly loaded.

With every loaded word, Jennifer's eyes narrowed even more. Her eyes scanned the article title:

 **BLACKWOOD SURVIVOR RETURNS HOME AFTER SIX YEARS, IMMEDIATELY PLACED IN MENTAL INSTITUTE**

Jennifer heard high-pitched violins in her head as the image of _her_ loaded. It obviously wasn't a recent picture; judging from her cheerleader getup, the picture was taken in high school. In the picture, _she_ was leaning against the school mascot – it was a post-game picture, but the rest of the cheer team was messily cropped out.

After closing out of the article, Jennifer immediately called Chris back. He must have been waiting for her to call back, for he answered after one ring.

 _'Hey,'_ Chris said, _'Crazy, right?'_

"–Chris, where did you find that article?" Jennifer asked quickly.

 _'Someone shared it on Facebook. I seriously can't believe it – do you think this is a sign?'_ Chris asked, curiosity in his tone.

"I don't know, Chris!" Jennifer said as she began to pace her bedroom, "Maybe! This is crazy!"

' _Yeah, dude, this is nuts.'_ There was a pause. _'What do we do now?'_

Jennifer stood quiet for a moment. "Shit, I don't know, uh, does it say which institute she's at?"

 _'Uh,'_ Chris harassed, _'Didn't you read it?'_

"–Yes, I read it," Jennifer sighed as she clasped a hand over her eyes; she's been working with Chris for two weeks and he was as difficult as she remembered him, "Just, please, can you look over it again? Text me the name of it when you find it, please."

 _'Roger that!'_

"Okay, by–"

Click.

Jennifer blinked as she looked at her phone. Well, at least Chris was invested. After letting a sigh escape, Jennifer tossed her phone onto her bed, only for it ding. Slightly confused, Jennifer walked over to her bed and picked up her phone.

 _[7:46am; Chris] - Seattle Metal Health Institute_

 _[7:47am; Me] - That was fast. You meant *mental right?_

 _[7:47am; Chris] - No, def metal institute. "lock me up I'm crazaaay_ _!" *pig scream* *guitar solo*_

 _[7:47am; Chris] - did you really doubt me, even for a second?_

 _[7:47am; Me] LOL, no not really. Geez Chris, this is serious! haha_

 _[7:48am; Chris] :D K. Going back to sleep. It's way too early, crazy._

* * *

A pair of plump, rosy lips hummed contently.

Along with the melody, a hand scribbled with black Sharpie.

With a grin, Jessica set her pen next to her as she admired her work.

In her hand, Jessica held a tag from a nearby florist. She bit her lip as she read it:

 ** _To: Jess_**

 ** _Love: Matt_ **

It made her so, _incredibly_ happy. Ever since she had been admitted to the institute, Matt visited a lot. He'd bring her flowers twice a week, but she never had the drive to keep them alive. Regardless, she appreciated the gesture. After Mike left her in the mines, Matt was there to protect her; to help her escape absolute terror. When the monster came after them, Matt told Jessica to run, while he distracted _it_. Sure, Mike came for her, but Matt _protected_ her.

When she was rescued and taken to the police station, she asked about Mike, but she also asked about Matt.

They told her that he hadn't been found.

Matt came to her room, hugged her, kissed her, _loved_ her!

Jessica stood up and walked over to her dresser, where a vase of white roses sat. She wrapped the tag around the vase, like it was when she first received them. Jessica ran her thumb over her savior's name, _Matt_. It didn't matter if he acted out; forgot who he was, she loved him and understood..

 _Matt smiled as he rested his forehead against Jessica's, "I love you, m'lady."_

 _..._

 _Matt paced in Jessica's room with his hands on his head._

 _Jessica stood up, "Matt, what's wrong–"_

 _"–I'm not Matt! Jessica, look at me!" Matt exclaimed as he pointed at himself._

 _"Stop, you're acting strange!" Jessica said as she walked closer to him._

 _"I'm acting strange?! Matt's dead!" Matt exclaimed._

 _"Please, calm down. I understand.." Jessica said as she embraced him; smiling as she buried her head into his letterman jacket._

 _..._

Jessica tilted her head as she continued to look at her flowers.

It was okay; she understood!

Jessica slowly removed her thumb and realized she had accidentally smeared Matt's name.

Underneath, another name was written in the same ballpoint pen her name was written in.

 _To: Jess_

 _Love: Mike_

* * *

The glass doors to Seattle's Institute opened.

A very nervous, but determined, Jennifer walked in slowly. Now in the lobby, Jennifer looked around. Not knowing what to do or where to go, Jennifer patted her hand on white, stuffed bear she had picked up on the way. Jennifer looked to the small, red tag that read, 'Get Well Soon.' She grimaced a bit, now wondering if that was appropriate. After taking a deep breath, Jennifer approached the front desk.

"Hello," the woman at the desk said, "Are you here to see someone?"

"Yes," Jennifer said as she unintentionally slammed the teddy bear face first into the counter, "Jessica? Jessica Hall?"

The woman looked uneasy as she watched the bear suffocate against the laminate counter, "Uh, yes," she said as she looked up with a fake smile, "Let me get you her room."

"Thank you." Jennifer glanced down at the bear and quickly picked it up off of the counter, noticing her heartless display.

"Jessica Hall," the woman recited as she browsed her computer. "Okay, it looks like she's in room 20B."

"Sweet! Thanks!" Jennifer rushed as she turned around, but the woman quickly had her back at the counter.

"You'll need to stop by the detectors. No weapons, no belts, no shoelaces..."

Jennifer nodded, despite the blast of information.

"They'll brief you there," she finished.

"Alright," Jennifer nodded, "Thank you."

If it weren't for the signs perfectly placed around the institute, Jennifer would have never found her way around. Clutching the bear tightly, Jennifer entered the very short line for the detectors. As the line moved forward, Jennifer listened to the replaying recording: _'If you refuse to part with your phone, belt, hairband, tobacco products, shoelaces, or laces of any kid, you will not be granted entry, for these items are strictly prohibited.'_

"Ma'am," said a woman upfront. The woman's stature was short, her skin was fairly dark, and she was a bit hefty. She also wore a perfect face of makeup: fake eyelashes and a berry, pink lipstick. Jennifer tilted her head slightly to read her name tag, which read: Shantel. "Ma'am!"

"–Hm?" Jennifer asked, eyes wide in bewilderment.

"Your coat, please." The woman talked in a monotone voice; obviously peeved in some way. The recording's repetition distracted Jennifer; she hadn't realized that she already started handing the employee her belongings.

"Yeah...wait, my coat?" Jennifer asked.

"Yes, ma'am," the woman sighed, "Your coat has laces near the shoulder. The laces need to be removed or else you'll have to leave your coat here."

"Oh, okay, right," Jennifer said as she wrapped her fingers around the end of the lace. She pulled, thinking the lace would just feed through, but it didn't. She pulled, she pulled, she yanked: nothing. Jennifer chuckled, "One sec."

The lady at the detector chewed her gum loudly as she looked away. With a loud pop of her gum, the woman looked back to Jennifer, "I recommend you leave your coat here."

"–No, I got it, just one sec," Jennifer interjected as she rose a hand during her struggle.

"–Just hand over the coat, we ain't got all day," the woman said sternly, which made Jennifer stop mid-struggle and look to her.

"Uh," Jennifer stammered, "Sure." Jennifer quickly removed her coat and handed it to the employee. Then, she just stood there. What for? She didn't know.

"You can go now," the woman said.

"–Oh, right!" Jennifer spat bashfully as she walked through the detector. She walked down the hall and mentally cursed how absolutely awkward she was! Why? Why was she so nervous? Why!

Jennifer, who donned wide eyes from the confrontation earlier, sighed as she turned the corner, but ended up smacking her face directly into someone's shoulder.

"Oh, shit," the man began, "I'm sorr–"

With her back to the person she collided with, Jennifer let out an exaggerated groan as she bent down to pick up the bear.

"Do you need help–"

"–Nope, I don't need your help! I'm just fine," Jennifer said sarcastically as she turned to face her _attacker._ Instead of looking to the man, Jennifer blew a strand of hair out of her face as she readjusted the bear's tag.

"Jen?"

Slowly, Jennifer's eyes shifted upward.

"Jennifer Boothe?" The man repeated, but wore a smile; certain he wasn't mistaken.

The man that stood before Jennifer looked like he hadn't aged since high school. Just like he would back then, he wore a plaid button-up along with medium-wash, denim jeans and a belt. His coy smile was present, but even Jennifer knew he wasn't shy or reserved. When Jennifer studied his face, she did realize a _slight_ difference. Before, Mike had a flawless complexion; no blemishes or scars. However, now, Mike had small scar, that was barely noticeable, at the corner of his mouth and a very thin scar that ran diagonal across his cheek. It was from _that_ night, Jennifer knew it.

Jennifer stood quiet, but Mike didn't know she was mentally processing the reunion – if that's what it was.

"Jen," Mike said happily as he approached, "Oh, my god, Jen, no way!" Without invitation, Mike pulled Jennifer in a hug. "This is crazy, I haven't seen you in years!"

As Mike embraced her, Jessica's wide eyes peered over Mike's shoulder. Was this really happening?

With a content sigh, Mike pulled away, but kept his hands firmly on Jennifer's shoulders. "Man, what have you been up to?"

Jennifer smacked her lips and looked away, "Uh, just workin', hangin' out, you know..."

"Yeah," Mike said as he repositioned his footing – both hands in his jean pockets, "Me too."

Mike's look of joy, then, turned to curiosity. His eyes narrowed as he spoke, "Wait, what...what are you doing here? You got a relative here – a friend?" As Jennifer's mind began to turn; all of the gears turning until they started to spark, Mike looked to Jennifer's hands. "Cute bear, by the way," Mike said as he gestured a hand towards it.

Jennifer shared a look of uncertainty, but, thankfully, Mike was too oblivious to pick up on it. Jennifer looked to floor as she bit the inside of her cheek.

!(y/c)! **Truth** _(I heard about Jess; I came to visit...)_ or **Evade** _(I'm here for a friend. What are you doing here?)_

* * *

 **A/N:** Man, this turned out way longer than expected and revolved around Jessica way more than expected! Sorry that the part with Mike was short, but that's not all of that conversation. This is just a choice during the conversation that needs to be picked! The conversation will pick back up in the next chapter.

 **IEatBooksForTea:** Right?! I think Chris and Ashley would be great parents, although I believe Ashley would be one of those paranoid moms. Thanks for telling me that the characters are in-character! I freak out sometimes thinking they're not! Yes! Chris and Ashley are married! In, I think it was the third chapter, when Chris is walking downtown, his wedding ring is mentioned. :) As you'll know now, this chapter features a lot of Jessica... _a lot!_ I'm glad you understand Jessica – you'll see that she's a lot more screwed up than we think. Your reviews make my day, btw! I love them!

 **Leyshla Gisel:** *is slowly lowered from the sky dressed as an angel. Hands you a card that says 'you're welcome' written on it. Blows you kisses as I ascend back into the heavens* Finally! Sorry I kept you waiting for so long! Also, that's something you have to think about. Notice that I only describe physical appearance, rather than their names. I want you to hypothesis! Who is it? It could be Jen, it could be Emily, it could be Beth, it could be Hannah, it could be Chris with a wig on. No one knoooows.

 **J. Devereaux:** Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying all of the elements!

 **Artemis' hunters:** Thanks so much! Yeah, the trauma is just the beginning, lol. My writing style can get pretty dark, so get ready! Haha. As you probably saw in this chapter. Yes, they have kiddos! Yay! I'm excited to see where I take this too. So far, this has all been improvised. The characters, literally, do what they want; just pure chaos. As usual, Matt is nowhere to be found. *tsk


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